


The Paths We Walk

by shadow_prince



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - College/University, Blood and Injury, Cute, Fluff, Guilt, Light Angst, M/M, Mention of blood but it's not graphic, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Underage Drinking, hella gay, implied/referenced previous self-harm, solangelo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2018-10-22 07:03:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 52,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10692144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadow_prince/pseuds/shadow_prince
Summary: Will Solace has been enthralled with a certain dark haired boy for ten years now. But starting his junior year of college, his best friends Cecil and Lou Ellen are determined this be the year he stop drowning himself in homework and internships, have some fun, and maybe finally have his first kiss. Will isn't amused by their antics.After spending the past two years at a community college so that he could stay near his sister, Nico transfers when she graduates, joining his best friend Jason at his university. He knows a few guys from boarding school all decided to go there together, but doesn't realize just how many are together again.





	1. Chapter 1

_Will - 11 years old_

 

A new boy moved into school today. He has a nice smile and laugh like ringing bells at Christmas time. At breakfast I see him bouncing in line for food, and at break, running through the trees on the school grounds. I want to say hello, but am too shy. So I watch him from a distance as he shows his new friends a binder of cards for some sort of game. I watch him as he laughs, laying under a tree, and the sound makes me smile, too. Until one day he's no longer smiling. I want to ask him why. Someone else asks him whats wrong and he shoves them away and runs. The boy doesn't come to class that day. Or the next. Or the next. And I frown, missing the sound of ringing bells of laughter.


	2. Chapter 2

_Will - 13 years old_

 

It's been two years since I saw him, but the boy with the nice laugh shows up in class one day. As if he was never gone. As if I hadn't spent two years thinking of his smile, and what could take it away. Only he still isn't smiling. He looks down at his desk, playing with his pen, as if he can't stay still. His hair is too long, and falls in his face, but I can still see the dark circles under his eyes. Too dark for one late night. I wonder when he last slept. He won't look up, I can't catch his eye. I can't smile and say 'I see you.' My feet are frozen as I search for a way for him to notice me. But then the teacher clears his throat. I quickly move to my own desk and pull out my algebra homework, my mind very much somewhere else. On someone else.


	3. Chapter 3

_Will - 15 years old_

 

I'm walking off the field after soccer practice, when a head of dark hair catches my eye. Leaning against a large tree, a leather jacket thrown over his school uniform, is the boy I've watch for years. I take this as a good sign. Even though he hasn't disappeared from school since that first time, I sometimes wonder if he hasn't. He goes to class, but I never see him outside of the classroom, and wonder where he goes. He's not at meals, or outside on the grounds at breaks. It must be a good sign if he's ventured outside now, right? I stop and study him, watching the way his long fingers spin a silver ring around one finger. His eyes are scanning the clumps of students. Not searching, more like analyzing. As if merely by studying them, he can see into their soul. Suddenly his scanning stops on me. I become very aware that I have been staring at him for much too long, and can feel a blush creeping across my cheeks, the tips of my ears, down my neck... I break his gaze and turn and run. I run and run. Away from those intense eyes. Away from that look that feels like it learned everything there is to know about me in mere seconds. I'm not even sure what there would be for him to find, but it scares me none the less. I collapse against the wall outside the infirmary. Taking measured, deep breaths, letting my heart and mind calm, before I walk in, change into my scrubs, and start my shift.


	4. Chapter 4

_Will - 18 years old_

 

After only a few months of helping in the infirmary, I realized that if I had wanted to see more of dark-and-not-smiling, I should have just started working here earlier. Not that they let you before you turn 15, but still. Passing out. Refusing to eat. Panic attack. Waking his roommate, screaming from nightmares. Mysterious gashes, scrapes, cuts, and bruises, that he won't cooperate and tell us where he acquired them. Over the past few years, he has definitely been our most frequent visitor, without any competition for that place at the top. In light of how frequently he is in the infirmary, you would think that he would be used to being dragged in here, but apparently that isn't the case. He throws a fit and refuses every single time. And when I say he is dragged in here, I mean that literally. Or carried, as is the case today.

I take off running when I hear the shouting coming from the entrance. Michael and Austin pass me, sprinting in the opposite direction, but give me one word as they go past: Nico. I pick up my pace immediately and have to skid to a halt in the entryway to prevent myself from crashing into Jason Grace, cradling the limp body of dark-and-not-smiling in his arms. I freeze for a moment, seeing blood running from Nico's temple, his left arm at an unnatural angle, and more blood seeping through his clothes like ink. Spreading, spreading, spreading.

My adrenaline and medical instincts kick in. "What happened Grace?" I ask, as Michael and Austin return, a surgical gurney pushed between them. Jason lowers Nico gently onto the bed, and as he straightens I briefly note the amount of blood on his arms and shirt. Snapping the rails up, Michael and Austin begin steering Nico toward the surgical room, Jason and I trotting behind as he fills me in.

"That thunderstorm last night. Lightning must have struck a tree on the grounds, but not enough to topple it on it's own. Some of the young kids were sitting under it and one started climbing for fun, nothing unusual. Nico and I were nearby, when we heard the loud crack. Before I knew what was happening, Nico took off sprinting. I turned and saw the huge tree falling, right towards the kids sitting on the ground. They were frozen in shock. Nico threw himself under it, holding it up just long enough for the kids to get out, but then it came down on him. It took three of us to lift it enough to pull him out, I have no idea how he held it up even for those few seconds."

By the time he finishes, we've reached the operating theater. Michael and Austin already have Nico inside, prepping the room, hooking him to an IV but I spin around to Jason, a hand up preventing him from entering.

"Will!"

"No." I cut him off. "You cannot be in there while we work on him, but you are welcome to wait. I would suggest you leave though.. this could be a while, and I will send someone to find you as soon as we are done. We don't even know what kind of damage we are facing yet."

Jason let out a low growl, "I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right outside these doors and you better tell me the moment he's stable, Solace."

I nod, before spinning around and entering the operating room.


	5. Chapter 5

_Will_

 

It's another dark and stormy night, like the one previously that created this whole disaster. Nico is stable and sleeping in a room next to the operating theater, just as a precaution of needing to get him back in there fast. I don't foresee any problems though, and let Jason join me at Nico's bedside for a few hours. I finally convinced Jason to head back to his own room around 11, but only after assuring him that I wasn't leaving the infirmary that night. I made it seem like I was doing it for Jason's peace of mind, but really I had no intention of budging from Nico's side.

I left a lamp on, sitting on the nightstand next to my chair, filling the room with a low, warm glow. I'm fiddling with the edge of the blanket on Nico's bed when I hear his breathing change.

"Will?" Nico's voice cracks, floating softly between the raindrops peppering the window. I jump just a bit; not because I didn't realize he was waking, but because I didn't know he knew my name.

I raise my eyes to his, and feel a blush across my cheeks. I will it away, hoping he doesn't notice in the dim light. "Still flirting with death I see, di Angelo?"

He gives me a weak smile, but it's enough to make my heart hurt, remembering a bigger smile and laugh like bells. It's not what it used to be, but even this small smile makes me happy. He went much too long without any, and I silently thank Jason for whatever he's doing that's pulling Nico ever so slightly toward the happy little boy I remember.

"Always." He responds, pulling my thoughts back to the present. He shifts a bit, and winces. I jump up to help him get more comfortable.

"I can't give you any more pain medication until the morning, after you've eaten something. How do you feel now though?" I question, going back to doctor mode.

"Not bad," but I can tell he's lying through gritted teeth.

"Nico. You know I can tell when you're lying, and you know things go much quicker and smoother when you actually give me the information I need, instead of delaying and making me pull it out of you. Now. Pain, on a scale of 1 to 10." I study him, trying to read his expression, and determine the number for myself while he considers his answer. I'm expecting a snarky remark but..

"8." I can tell it must be bad if he's giving me a straight answer.

"You have two broken ribs, and another two cracked. Your arm is broken in three places. Not to mention the gashes that required stitches- no! Don't touch your head." I gently smack his hand away as he reaches up to touch his temple. "You lost a lot of blood. Don't touch the stitches, I can't have them getting snagged or infected, leave them alone. You should know that by now Death Boy."

"Don't call me that." He glares at me, his hair falling into his eyes. While others are generally terrified by the glares that Nico di Angelo has perfected to a science, they have little effect on me. Maybe it's because I have literally sewn the boy back together on far too many occasions. I prefer to think it's that and refuse to acknowledge that I find the look kinda... hot.

My lip twitches and I give in to a small smile, causing the smaller boy's scowl to deepen.

"Jason literally had to carry your limp, unconscious body into my infirmary this morning. Pretty sure after dragging your ass back from the brink of death I can call you what I please. You're in no position to stop me at the moment."

"It's not your infirmary..." is his only retort, looking down and almost.. pouting? "Did those kids make it out alright?"

I study him while he picks at the threads of the white cotton blanket spread across his lap. "Yeah," I answer, my throat inexplicably a bit tight, "yeah, none of them were brought to the infirmary, and Jason said you held the tree long enough for them all to safely get out. So I imagine they're all alright."

Nico doesn't look up, just keeps scowling at the blanket. I don't bother to stop him as his long fingers loosen the threads.

"You should go back to sleep though. You need as much rest as you can get."

I'm so fixated on watching his hands move, that I don't notice he has looked up and is studying me until, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

I jerk my head up and meet his gaze. Dark, dark eyes. I had never realized how exquisitely dark they are before now. Like a starless night, so full and empty at the same time. My breath is slightly uneven, and I notice his eyebrows begin to pull together in his signature scowl. I look down at my hands in my lap before answering, "I didn't realize you knew my name."

I'm not sure why I answered that way, or why I answered honestly.

His eyebrows shot up, and I made a mental note that the best way to stop him from scowling was to surprise him. And by the tone of his voice, boy was he surprised...

"You didn't think I knew your name?" He asked incredulously, staring at me as if I had grown another head. "It's not like this is the first time, as you so eloquently put it, you have dragged my ass back from the brink of death, and you didn't think I _knew your name?!"_

I chew my lip nervously, still studying my hands, as if they have suddenly become incredibly different and interesting.

"Honestly, you're probably only the fastest guy on the soccer team because of the practice I gave you chasing me and dragging me in here." I don't need to look up to know there's a smirk on his face, I can hear it in his voice, but I look up anyway. I was right. Definitely a smirk.

I roll my eyes. "Go to sleep di Angelo."

I can feel his scowl on my back as I turn off the table lamp and head out into the infirmary.


	6. Chapter 6

_Will_

 

Apparently nearly being crushed to death by a massive oak was enough for Nico, because after the time spent recovering in the infirmary, he was (surprisingly, shockingly even) rarely brought there during the rest of my senior year. I caught fleeting glimpses of him on the boarding schools grounds, usually in the company of Jason, and occasionally Percy, but that was about the extent of it.

At one point I had to scold myself for missing his presence in the infirmary. What kind of future doctor missed having a frequent patient there? I should be happy that he isn't nearly killing himself, and I definitely am, but I guess I had just grown to enjoy his snarky comments when he was there.

Between soccer, the infirmary, and classes, the year flew by. After the graduation ceremony, I saw Nico watching Jason with his family. He stood slightly apart as Grace smiled for photos with a girl, I could only assume was his sister. A small smile tugged at Nico's lips, but I could tell he was melancholy. I could only image how it felt watching your best friend graduate without you; knowing you had to survive another whole year at boarding school without him.

Nico looked away from Jason and caught me watching him, I smiled and raised my hand in greeting across the crowd of people. He answered with a small smile of his own, raising his hand in response, before I was pulled away by my mom, for pictures with my own family. I spared a moment to send a prayer to the gods that Nico have a quick and painless senior year before he could join his friends again.

Emphasis on the painless part...


	7. Chapter 7

_Nico - 20 years old_

 

I hear the key turn in the door, and it swings open. Since the only other person with a key to our dorm would be Jason, I don't look up and try to go back to sleep. "di Angelo, where is the rest of your shit?"

I answer with a grunt, refusing to open my eyes.

"Brother! We have activities to attend to shortly, and I require you to be settled before we must depart. Now, rise. Retrieve your items and unpack them into our living chambers so that we may enjoy the festivities of the evening."

"First, I am not now, nor have I ever been, your brother. Second, and more importantly, you need to cut out the fucking Thor-speak. Yes, it was an excellent movie, but you're driving me crazy and it hasn't even been one day of living together yet."

"The resemblance is uncanny though, is it not mortal?"

"No way, you're more of a Steve Rogers. Righteous and annoying." He really does look like Captain America though. Tall, blonde perfectly styled hair, muscular toned body, the whole deal. Not to mention he was a stickler for rules. I'm already anticipating this being a problem since I have an 8am class this semester, and a tendency to refuse to be out of bed before 10. And that's on a good day.

Jason snorts, "Alright, calm it down there, Stark," finally stopping the Asgardian imitation.

"Are you two being nerds again?" I recognize the voice without needing to look towards the door, as being Jason's girlfriend, Piper.

"'Again' implies we ever stopped." I reply, letting the corner of my lip twitch in a slight smile. I can't help but enjoy the easy banter with Jason, even though I would never admit that to him.

"OH MY GOD YOU'RE BUCKY."

This gets me to open my eyes, but only to glare at Jason, who is now excitedly bouncing on the balls of his feet, grinning like a little kid.

"If I'm Rogers, then you're totally Bucky. But Winter Soldier-turned-good Bucky. My darker best friend. You even have the motorcycle and dark circles under your eyes!"

Luckily, he's close enough that I can snap my leg out from the bed and kick him in the hip, without even having to get up.

"Ow! Fuck, man, unnecessary. Piper! Did you see what he did to me!"

"Don't be a baby. Besides, you kind of deserved that." She responds, but walks over and wraps an arm around his waist to soften the criticism.

"Anyway. I'm not sure why you're asking where the rest of my shit is, since you were responsible for bringing it." I look at Jason seriously, wondering if he somehow managed to screw that up.

Jason wraps an arm around Piper's shoulders and looks down at my bed frowning, "I have both your guitars, and one suitcase of clothes."

"Yeah. The rest of my shit."

"Dude you need, like... Sheets, a blanket, a pillow, towel..." ticking things off on his fingers while he talks.

I finally sit up and hop off the bed. "Oh yeah, that reminds me. Hey Pipes, will you take me the store or somewhere I can get sheets, a blanket, a pillow, towel..." I mimic Jason and trail my own voice off with a smirk in his direction.

She laughs while Jason just rolls his eyes at me. "Why didn't you get any of that before hand?" Jason groans "now you'll have to wash it all before you can even sleep tonight."

"Then we better get going, huh? And how the hell would I have carried all that shit on my motorcycle, Grace? Use your brain." I tap his temple for emphasis, before grabbing my backpack from the foot of my bed and wandering over to the attached bathroom.

I step inside and pull the door shut, locking it behind me. At the sink I splash cold water on my face, making my mind clearer and fully waking me from the nap I had been enjoying before Shakespeare in the Park woke me up. I run my damp fingers through my long, messy hair, attempting to tame it into something decent enough to go out in public. In doing so I catch sight of the scar that runs along my left temple and scowl. It's not that I'm vain enough to care about the scar, I mean my hair pretty effectively hides it anyway, and my whole body was peppered with scars of all shapes and sizes.

This one though... this one constantly reminds me of Will Solace and those godsdamned blue, blue eyes. The way they widened when I said his name. The way they were downcast when he admit he was surprised I knew it. Of course I knew it, how could I not? My irritated response three years ago, (had it only been three years?) was secretly agitation that he seemed to not think his name worth knowing. Not only that though, that moment was the first time in my life, I regretted how effective I was at keeping people at bay and making them believe in my own indifference.

I let out a low growl in irritation at my own thoughts, before tearing my eyes away from the mirror. I fish around in the front pocket of my backpack for a black hair tie, before pulling my hair in a loose knot at the back of my head. I quickly change from my sleep shorts and shirt to black skinny jeans and an Asking Alexandria shirt. It's my favorite shirt, worn soft from too many wears and washes, and says "we are the lost souls" in fading white letters. Finished changing I slip back into the dorm room to search for my boots. Piper is straddling Jason, who is on his back on his bed, his hands on her waist. Her choppy brown hair is hiding their faces, but it's blatantly obvious they're lip locked and tongue tied.

"Get a room." I mutter, tugging on my boots and lacing them up.

Piper giggles and climbs off Jason.

"We're in one, that's kinda the point." Jason grins.

I roll my eyes. "I was literally only gone two minutes. You couldn't keep it together for even that long?"

Jason doesn't bother to answer, just keeps smiling happily, pulling Piper against his side. Love disgusts me, but it's hard to be mad at your best friends.

"Ready?" Piper asks, shaking the keys to her convertible that are hanging from her fingertips. I pull my leather jacket off the back of my chair and throw it on, even though it's probably still warm enough not to warrant wearing, grab my wallet and phone off my desk, before nodding my agreement, and follow them out of the dorm room. Jason locks the door and we head off towards the parking lot.

I follow Piper and Jason, letting them pull a little bit ahead, their joined hands swinging between them. When we get to where Piper had parked, I climb in the back of her Audi A3. It's a really nice day out, so she drops the top, and we pull out, zipping through the streets of campus.

"Is Target alright?" She calls back, her voice carried on the wind.

"Whatever, you know better than me where I can get shit so Jason will get off my back."

Jason spins around and sticks his tongue out, and I respond in kind. I'm not sure what it is about that guy that brings the kid out in me. He drags me into stupid arguments and dumb shit, like sticking your tongue out, all the time.

I lean back and close my eyes, fingers tapping on my knees to an unheard rhythm in my head, enjoying the feel of the wind on my face and tugging at strands of my hair. I allow my thoughts to wander until I feel the car slow down and turn. Opening my eyes, I see we're in the parking lot of a shopping center, headed towards the big red bullseye. We park, walk in, and I grab a cart. Jason and Piper vaguely mention going to check out movies or something and I wave them off, saying I'll text them when I'm finished finding everything I need. I look up, studying the large hanging signs that designate the different sections of the store, and head toward the one labeled "home." I toss a set of black sheets in the cart, followed by a huge grey blanket, two fluffy pillows, and a couple black towels, before going in search of laundry detergent. I find all the laundry soaps near the grocery section, and after grabbing what I need, figure it would be a good idea to grab some food for the room too.

I find myself staring at the wall of k-cups, drumming my fingers on the cart handle and weighing the pros and cons of buying a Keurig for my room (pro: coffee in bed without having to put on pants. con: I'd probably never get out of bed if I didn't HAVE to in order to retrieve my coffee...) I decide it's worth it if it means there's a chance I'll make my 8am class sometimes, and am tossing a few packs of the k-cups in my cart next to the Cliff Bars, when I hear voices coming from the next aisle over that make me freeze.


	8. Chapter 8

_Will - 21 years old_

 

"Cecil. We do NOT need a lifetime supply of Monster Energy drinks for our dorm."

"No Will, YOU don't need a lifetime supply of Monster Energy drinks for our dorm. Because you are a fucking morning person. I, on the other hand, need them. Not only to be able to get out of bed, but in order to not MURDER you when you inevitably wake me up at seven fucking o'clock humming a happy little diddy that has no place in this world at that ungodly hour."

I try to glare at Cecil, but just end up grinning with my eyebrows pulled down, which probably just makes me look kinda evil geniusy. Either way, he rolls his eyes and continues loading the cart up with energy drinks, while Lou Ellen comes skipping back down the aisle, arms full of chips, cookies, and other unhealthy snacks. I purse my lips, but refrain from commenting.

I opt to change the subject off food, to the night ahead of us "Did you guys decide on a movie for tonight? Are we picking one up here, or watching one we already own?"

"I vote something Disney, which we already have, so I'm good to go back to the dorms whenever you guys are finished." Lou Ellen responds, dumping her arms full of junk food into the cart I'm pushing.

Cecil pauses and looks at me, "wait, should we get beer or something? You know, celebrate the start of a new semester and being back together?"

I cock an eyebrow at him, "I don't think you can try and make us seem cool with beer, when we've already decided on a Disney movie night, that inevitably will turn into a sing along."

"The singing might sound better with beer goggles..." he mutters under his breath, and I know it's a jab at me, and can't help but start laughing. I can get a little carried away belting Disney songs, throwing all musical talent to the wind.

"Fine Cecil, let's grab some booze, I think it's the next aisle over maybe. Then I want to head up front and try and find some of those pre-made salads."

Lou Ellen gives my shoulder a playful shove "you're such a health freak Will, just be a college student and live off ramen and beer like the rest of us, geeze."

We round the corner to the next aisle just as a tall, lean guy with dark hair disappears from the other end. My heart does an involuntary flip, as it does pretty much anytime I see long dark hair, but I banish the thought and get back to laughing with my two best friends, looking forward to a carefree evening before the semester gets loaded down with homework, labs, and exams.


	9. Chapter 9

_Nico_

 

I know the voice belongs to Will, even before the other guys says his name. The deep, rich voice, still tinged by a southern accent, despite all those years at a private boarding school in the north-east. I close my eyes and let the sound roll over me, thick and warm like honey and sunshine, intoxicating as whiskey. I'm snapped out of my revery when I hear that they're heading toward my aisle though, and manage to dart around the corner as they come in at the far side.

I fight the urge to glance back, to see him and those eyes, but my legs are picking up speed, propelling me away as fast as I can without running in the store. Piper and Jason suddenly appear in front of me, and I have to stop quickly to not run into them.

"Whoah dude, where you headed?" Jason asks, raising an eyebrow in question. His tone is calm, but his eyes are searching my face, trying to determine what's wrong.

"Oh. I was just going to find a Keurig machine. Figured it'd be nice to have coffee in the room."

Piper looks between us for a moment, sensing something is up, but motions for us to follow her. She leads us over to the kitchen section where I grab a black coffee maker, and announce that I have everything I need. At the register a girl with long brown hair, braided over her shoulder, and startling blue-green eyes rings me up. I zone out, and swipe the black credit card from my dad without even bothering to look at the total. Jason grabs the Keurig while I manage all the bags, and we set off towards the car. Once we're in the parking lot, Piper bursts out laughing, and I look up at her, startled.

"She was TOTALLY flirting with you hardcore Nico, and you didn't even notice or acknowledge her one bit."

I frown a bit, eyes widening. "I didn't even notice she was talking to me." Apparently this wasn't the thing to say because it just spurred Piper's laughter on.

"If I didn't already know you were gay, it would be really easy to figure out."

I roll my eyes and drop the bags on the floor of the back seat next to me, blushing a little at her comment. It's still new to me, people knowing that I'm gay. Going to an all boys boarding school, I was terrified of coming out, of being even more alienated that I already was. In the end though, keeping it bottled up was eating away at me until I finally broke apart one night, collapsed next to Jason pouring out the truth, waiting for him to hate me. But, of course, Jason Grace was too damn perfect to hate me or push me away for being gay. He grabbed me in a hug, promised not to tell anyone and to keep my secret until I was ready, and defend my honor whenever I needed. I couldn't help bursting out laughing at the last part, but hugged him back, gratefully. I still have no clue how I got so damn lucky to have him as a best friend. I heard a joke one time that there are two ways introverts make friends: 1. animals count as friends. 2. an extrovert adopts them. Jason Grace adopted me, and while I might scowl and push him away constantly, secretly I know it's the greatest thing that ever happened to me. It's kinda nice having friends.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday everyone! This took longer than I wanted it to, but it's finals week and all that nonsense. Hopefully I'll get the next one up in less than a week, but I'm hoping for at least one chapter a week. Let me know what you think of it all. (:
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: this chapter does have a trigger warning of discussing self harm. It's at the end of the chapter, and is not graphic, but feel free to skip the last two paragraphs if that's not something you want to read.

_Will_

 

We're halfway through our second movie, having sung through The Little Mermaid (mostly) sober, when I start to feel the warm tingles of a good buzz. I'm humming along to God Help the Outcasts, when Cecil takes this as a perfect time to harass the outcast in the room.

"So, when you gonna get laid, Will?"

I jump a little and look at him incredulously, before shaking my head and going back to the movie. I am not going to even dignify that with a response. He must not have expected that I would answer though, because he dives right into, what I can only imagine, is his real question.

"What gender do you prefer, anyway?"

I glance over at him. He's laying on his back, brown hair disheveled, a beer in his hand, while he scrolls his phone. The perfect image of nonchalance. I can't decide whether he really is this relaxed talking about my sexuality, or if he's feigning it in hopes it will get me to answer him.

"You know, Will," Lou Ellen leans over, putting her head on my shoulder, "if you tell us, we could actually help you find someone." She smiles up at me sweetly, but I know better than to fall for that trap of a smile. I cock an eyebrow at her, but it just causes her to smile bigger, which pulls a smile from my lips as well. "I appreciate the concern, but between homework and classes and-"

"Shifts at the health center," Cecil finishes for me, "yeah, yeah we know. Absolutely no time. Can't possibly interact with a person. Or have a person to relax with and complain about what some shitty little freshman did at the clinic today. You know, to someone other than me."

I frown, "if I was annoying you, you could have just said so, Cecil"

"That's not what I mean, and you know it." He sits up and takes another swig of his beer, while I lean forward, reaching for a fresh one from the case at my feet. This conversation is going to require more than a slight buzz to survive, I decide. I pop the top off and take a healthy swig.

"Stop frowning, silly boy, we just want you to be happy. You deserve someone absolutely amazing. And besides, we all know if anyone in this room is annoying their roommate constantly, it's Cecil being unbearable to you. Honestly, I don't know how you do it."

I pipe up that he's not unbearable, at the same time that he defends himself saying them same, and we both grin at each other. He wraps an arm around my shoulder, and Lou Ellen leans away, looking at the two of us. "Okay, now you two are just being disgustingly cute. Honestly, how can you stand being around him all the time, Will."   
  
I sigh dramatically, leaning my head down onto Cecil's. "The truth is, Lou, we just didn't want to tell you and hurt your feelings, but..."

"We're together. We do the thing. The butt thing." Cecil finishes, oh so eloquently for me.

Lou Ellen bursts out laughing, clutching her sides and falling over on to the floor. "Seriously Cecil," she manages between gasping for breaths, "no one calls sex 'the thing' but you, and if you want to play a convincing gay, you're going to have to do more than say 'the butt thing.' That was a pathetic act." I'm too busy grinning to bother with fake professions of love that I know will get us no where in keeping the act up at this point.

Shrugging off Cecil's arm, I climb to my feet and stretch, being careful not to spill my beer, or hit it on the low dorm ceiling. They really don't design these rooms with guys over 6' in mind... I begin collecting the empty beer bottles and stacking them in the blue, plastic recycling bin by my desk, while Cecil and Lou Ellen tease each other. It's nice, just being in our own world together, hearing their laughter around me, and being back on campus in my own space. Going home for the summer and seeing my family was cool of course, but I missed my friends, and having my privacy. Doing what I want, when I want to, without any real expectations from anyone else. Well, besides the occasional movie night, of course.

I drain the rest of my beer and place it with the others in the bin, just as Cecil seems to remember the original conversation we got side tracked from. Just when I thought I was safe.

"Alright, so. Gender. Type. Throw me a bone here. We're your best friends and you're entirely too secretive about this... We're going to give you shit and love you no matter what, so you might as well spill."

I groan and fall dramatically onto my bed. Maybe if I try and smother myself, I won't have to have this conversation... Worth a shot, right?

"Will we're just trying to help." Lou Ellen has her mom voice on. The one that attempts to convey she's being serious, and not just as likely as Cecil to tease the shit out of me for something I've done, which is a complete lie. Not that I doubt her sincerity.

I refuse to lift my face out of the pillow I've buried it in. "I don't need any help. I'm perfectly fine."

"You've never even KISSED someone, dude. And you're so determined to kill yourself with classwork and shifts at the health center, I know you won't even change that without a good shove." I turn my head to glare at Cecil, but he's un-phased.

"Will," I hear the hesitation in Lou Ellen's voice and sit up to look at her, crossing my legs. Clearly this conversation is happening, so I may as well get comfortable. "You know, it's okay if you don't want to kiss or have sex with anyone... like if you haven't done anything because you aren't... attracted to people that way." The combination of hesitation, mixed with the look of sympathy and wariness have me scanning her face trying comprehend, until it clicks.

"I'm not ace LouLou."

Cecil, who has completely ignored Lou Ellen's delicacy with the matter, dives right back to the question he wants answered. "Great, so you're down for sex, now what's your preference? Help me, help you, man."

I lean back on the bed, propped up on my elbows, my head thrown back studying the bunk above me, and consider his question. I know I'm not asexual because there have definitely been sexual thoughts and desires related to a certain dark-and-not-smiling Italian boy, but I don't know from there. Nico is the only one who I have ever felt that tug towards. Does that mean I'm gay? Even though there aren't other guys I've wanted to kiss and touch? I know that Cecil isn't going to let the matter drop though so I decide to just go with it... "Guys... I think I like guys." Belatedly I realize I should probably feel some sort of embarrassment for admitting that to my two best friends, one of whom lives with me, but before I can even start to worry they're both charging forward like this isn't some big revelation.

"Sweeeeet more girls for me," is Cecil's response. I bring my head back down just in time to see Lou Ellen rolling her eyes and passing what distinctly looks like cash into Cecil's palm.

I gawk at them both a bit "what the fuck was that?"

Lou Ellen at least has the decency to look sheepish, while Cecil just flat out grins. "I bet you'd come out as gay while she was convinced you were bi or pan."

"But you just thought I was ace," I reply slowly, studying Lou Ellen, confused. She just shrugs.

"You're so nice to everyone, and don't seem to act any different between any one gender and another, so I figured you were all or nothing." She grins up at me, and I can't help but smile at her reasoning.

"To be honest, I don't know what I am..." I shuffle uncomfortably.

"Why don't you just talk to us about it? You know we aren't going to judge you, and it might help you figure it out to talk about your thoughts."

I consider what she's said, tugging my bottom lip with my teeth while I think. Slowly I start "well... there's only ever been one person I was interested in. And they were a guy, so that's why I said I like guys... but I've never been attracted to a different guy than that one. So, I'm not sure what I am. Does that make sense?"

Both of them are looking at me, but neither are freaking out, so I take this as a good sign. Lou Ellen looks thoughtful, while Cecil looks very serious. He catches my eye, "it does. I'm the guy."

"You're not the guy," my dry answer evokes the image of a desert, even in my own mind. I roll my eyes, "and you're an idiot."

Cecil falls over cackling, landing with his head in Lou Ellen's lap. She has completely ignored his idiotic response, and is staring off lost in thought. I'm not even sure she notices that her fingers have found their way in Cecil's hair, and are absently threading through his brown locks. I briefly wonder why I'm talking about my own romance problems with two people who are so far in denial about their own feelings, I'm not even convinced they realize it themselves.

"Describe them."

My eyes go wide with panic at Lou Ellen's completely serious order. I cough a bit, having sucked in too much air too quickly in surprise, and need to take a few breaths to slow my heart down. I'm being completely irrational. Cecil didn't go to the academy, and Nico doesn't go to the university. They don't know him, and there's no way they will, so really there isn't any reason for me not to describe him. At least, that's what I'm trying to tell myself, while still mildly freaking out. Lou waits patiently, and even Cecil has calmed down a bit with her fingers in his hair. Neither of them push me, and honestly they don't need to, because I ache to talk about him. Suddenly it's like a dam breaking, and everything I've ever noticed about him is about to pour out of me.

A strangled half sob breaks through my lips, "he's beautiful." And suddenly it's Lou's turn to widen her eyes at the brokenness of my voice. But when I meet her gaze, and she sees my eyes are perfectly dry, she relaxes a tad and waits for me to continue. "He's small and lithe, intimidating, and always composed. He has absolutely no regard for his own well-being, almost to the point that he acts like he has no reason to live. Like he doesn't care what happens to him. But I care... I've always cared. He almost never smiled or laughed, but when he did it was like every happy memory in my life came crashing down on me at once, as if everything in that moment were perfect. He was beautiful, and I'm sure he still is, I haven't seen him in years. And he hardly knew I existed."

My words trail off, and I'm studying my hands in my lap. Trying to remember what it felt like all those times my fingers brushed his skin while stitching some gash he had acquired, or bandaging various wounds. I try to remember the feeling, to feel like he is real. Like I just saw him yesterday, and I'll see him again the next time he does something idiotic, but I can't remember. I can't remember the feeling of his skin under my fingertips. I remember his dark eyes, but more than anything that makes him seem less real. More etherial. Like a fallen angel, I may have just dreamt of.

The worst part of it all, is there is one thing that does make him seem real, and I wish it didn't. As much as I long for him and the reminder that for a while he was in my life, the one thing that reminds me is one I would give up, if it took the pain away. While many of his trips to the infirmary had been from careless accidents, or putting himself in harms way for one reason or another, there were times I knew I was cleaning and bandaging wounds that hadn't been accidental. I would never document that, I know he wouldn't want it, so the infirmary records never showed a hint of my belief. Most may not notice the difference between one cut and another, but I could always tell what had been caused by a tree branch, a fence, some sharp piece of debris... and that of a blade he wielded himself. Nothing made him more real than knowing there were struggles behind those limitless eyes, which I wasn't privy to.

I come out of my thoughts to realize the silence is deafening. The movie has long since ended and both my friends are watching me as if they think I'm glass under pressure, about to shatter, and maybe I am. Maybe I already have. And maybe the pieces are too scattered to ever pull back together and have a chance with anyone who isn't the fallen angel I'm still in the thrall of. And deep down, I know I wouldn't move on, even if I could. "I'm going to sleep." I mumble, pulling back my blankets and crawling in bed, still fully clothed. I turn towards the wall, and will myself to sleep away the look on my friends' face, and the feeling that the memories I've carefully held at bay are taking over again.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look! Another chapter, and it didn't take a week! (:

_Nico_

 

The first week of classes progresses pretty uneventfully. Mostly just the standard passing out of the syllabus, going over semester deadlines and expectations, where to buy the required reading materials, and then letting out early. I didn't catch sight of a certain blonde ( _not_ that I hoped to) but that wasn't really surprising, since I was either in the music building or my dorm, rarely straying from one of the two places.

Since I finished my associates last spring, and the credits covered pretty much all my basic courses, my schedule is pretty awesome. The history of jazz class seems like it will be cool, and the professor is super chill, he even plays trumpet in a band at a club in the city, and I'm seriously considering going to see him perform sometime. Music theory will probably be my hardest class, but it's a challenge I look forward to. I have a song writing class, that is pretty much summed up by the course name. By far though, I am most stoked for my guitar class. With only a dozen or so students, all upperclassmen, it would be enough just to be in an environment with other people who love the instrument as much as I do - but what really has me looking forward to it, is the awesome midterm we will be working on.

Now, normally, I would be pissed to be diving into a project worth half the course grade, right off the bat, but honestly this sounds too cool to even be upset. Starting next week we will be collaborating with other sections of non-classical music majors, and grouped up to form our own bands. The first half of the semester will then consist of a battle of the bands, trying to knock each other out and be the last band standing. Whoever wins gets an automatic 100% on the midterm, and gets to perform at some huge festival, on an actual stage, and I'll be damned if I'm not the one up there.

As we're getting ready to leave, the professor asks us to jot down our favorite genre to perform, and whether we also sing. He tells us we'll be matched with who he and the other professors see as the best fit, and meet our groups next week. I list pop punk as my favorite, check that I sing, and head out the door with an actual smile tugging at my lips.

 

* * *

 

I practically run into the music building, I'm so excited to start performing again. I force myself to slow as I reach the classroom door, taking a seat in my chair, but still bouncing my leg, unable to be still. I'm a little disappointed he told us not to bring our guitars again, but I guess meeting our group is going to take up the whole period.

Mr. Wilson strolls in, looking cool and collected, with his worn leather messenger bag across his body. I didn't think it could, but my leg starts bouncing faster - the exact opposite of cool and collected. _Chill di Angelo._ I take a slow, deep breath through my nose, and will my body still, just as he turns to address the class.

"Hope you all are ready to rock and roll, because from here on out things are gonna move." His voice is a rich bass that seems to vibrate through the room. I glance around and am glad to see I'm not the only one who appears to be ecstatic about this project. Mr. Wilson continues, "my colleagues and I have put together the band rosters, and each one is different and unique. Some of you will have two guitarists, while others have only one. There are a few vocalist majors, but not nearly enough, so several of you will also be the vocalists for your groups. Everyone will have a drummer, and most of you will have a bassist. We're going to head over to one of the big band rooms to divide you all up. After that, each band will be assigned a private practice room, with your own key, where you will meet each week from now until midterms. I'll walk through each week and take attendance still, so don't think you can flake out on your mates. Unless anyone has any questions, we can head over there now."

The last sentence is phrased as a half question, and he looks at each of us slowly, but no one says anything. It feels like the whole room is holding their breath in anticipation, wanting to know who we're paired with, and if we can really take it all the way.

Mr. Wilson stands up off the desk he was half sitting, half leaning on, "alright then, follow me this way."

Chairs scrape on the old wood floor as everyone gets up to follow him through the maze of hallways toward one of the large chambers. The room is bathed in afternoon sunlight, streaming in through an entire wall of floor to ceiling windows. The chairs are arranged in an arc, with enough to seat a full symphonic orchestra. One corner is already occupied by eight students, turned in on themselves and talking animatedly. Judging by the sticks poking out of backpacks and the larger stick bags, I can only assume these are the drummers. A few turn from the group and grin or wave to someone in my class, before we take a seat nearby, but still apart.

Only a few seconds after my class sits down, we hear a ruckus from the hallway, that I know can only be created by vocalists. I honestly have never met a shy vocalist, but am still amazed when only five students walk in. They laugh, shove each other, and banter back and forth, before pouncing on drummers and guitarists that they know, filling the room with noise. Everything feels so alive, that I can't even blame them for their energy, although I do still pull further away, scowling and pretending I do.

We need to a wait a few more minutes before the bassists arrive, but no one seems to mind. Most people are chatting, laughing, and speculating on if they'll be in a band together, although it seems some are equally interested in competing against one another in the name of friendly competition.

I look up when the last group enters the room, and suddenly it feels like I've been punched in the gut, the wind completely knocked out of me. Standing at the edge of the group, smiling pleasantly, and occasionally interjecting a joke, appears to be an exact replica of Will Solace. Only she's a girl. _But she looks exactly like Will._ She has deeply tanned skin, a healthy dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks that I can see even from here, and slowly she turns so I catch sight of blue eyes. A voice in the back of my head argues that Will's are bluer, but I shove that thought away. Curly blonde hair is pulled up into a messy bun, a few stray ringlets escaping, and I can't help but stare in shock, until Mr. Wilson stands up and addresses the room, yanking my attention away from the girl.

"Let's get this show on the road, shall we? When I call your name, come up here by me, and once your group is assembled I'll give you the key and room number for your practice room. You can then go located it, and spend the rest of the period hanging out, getting to know each other, and exchanging contact info. If you'd like to start discussing song options, more power to you. We have eight drummers, so we will have eight bands."

He starts calling off names, and I zone out a bit, waiting for mine. My second shock of the period comes when I actually _recognize_ one of the names.

"Thalia Grace." Mr. Wilson reads off his list, and a tall girl with choppy black hair heads up towards him, her backpack thrown over one shoulder, and stick bag in hand. In my excitement I had completely failed to notice that of all people, Jason's sister was one of the drummers. I actually had forgotten that she went to school here too, but I know that she's a seriously awesome drummer.

"Nico di Angelo, who will be both guitarist and vocalist." I walk up towards the center of the room and give a lopsided smile to Thalia when she recognizes me. She full out grins and extends her fist for me to knock knuckles with. This project just keeps getting better. I miss the next name that's called, but another guitarist comes and joins us.

I'm still facing Thalia, back to the rest of the class, when Mr. Wilson calls the final name of our group, and my heart stops dead in my chest.

"Kayla Solace."


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up getting too long, so I'm breaking it up. The next one will probably be up tonight after work (:

_Nico_

 

I don't need to turn around to know which bassist joins our group. In my mind I reach for the cool detachment I've mastered over the years, and school my features to be neutral, all excitement gone. I fight the rising anxiety with deep breaths and controlled thoughts.

Mr. Wilson passes off a key to Thalia, giving her brief instructions on where our practice room is located, before she leads us out of the room. The practice rooms are on the upper floors, so Thalia guides us to the nearest stairwell, where we begin to climb, single file. Everyone remains quiet, although their silence seems friendly, while mine is quickly becoming brooding. Thalia stops, pulling open the door to the third floor, and leading the way through.

We end up in a narrow hallway, doors lining both sides. Although the practice rooms are padded to dampen the noise, they are far from sound-proof. Music spills into the hallway from students already practicing their instruments, despite it only being the second week back. My tension eases a tiny bit; music has long served as my way to cope or relax.

Thalia stops at a door on our left side, with metal numbers screwed into the door frame overhead, indicating our room is #327. She slots the key in the lock, having to jiggle it a bit before the knob turns and the door swings in to reveal a pitch black room. She stands aside, indicating with a wave of her hand that we should enter. The other guitarist and Kayla step in, flicking on the light switch. I pause next to Thalia, leaning toward her to whisper as quietly as I can while still being heard, "do not mention the academy."

She furls her brows, but gives a slight nod as I step past her. I hear her retrieve the key and shut the door behind her. Looking around the room, I have to admit I'm impressed. This is far from the shitty, small, bare practice rooms I am accustomed to, and clearly has been set-up with us in mind. A full drum set sits in one corner. Amps line one wall, with cords wrapped neatly, hanging above them. Several empty guitar stands sit in another corner, with chairs stacked up next to them. Kayla has already moved over and begun unstacking them, placing them in the center of the room. I hook one with my ankle, pulling it towards me before dropping onto it.

I fiddle with the tear at my knee as Thalia takes charge. "Okay, I know this is cliché, but let's start with some manner of introductions. I'm Thalia. Drummer, obviously. I'm a senior, and I signed up to play rock, punk, or metal." She looks around, waiting for someone to go next, but I just keep pulling at the hole in my jeans.

"It's nice to meet you! I'm Kayla." Any hope I had of her not being related to Will is gone. Between the overly friendly nature and southern drawl, there can be no mistake. "I'm a junior, play bass, and picked alternative or pop punk." I can hear the smile in her voice, and scowl, still refusing to look up.

"Jake. Senior. Guitar. Rock or punk." While his sentences are short and to the point, there is nothing hostile or unfriendly about his tone. I instantly like this guy, all business, no unnecessary chit-chat.

I finally look up, knowing it's my turn and Thalia will force me if I don't just do it. "My name's Nico. Guitar and vocals, I guess. Uh... Junior, and pop punk."

Thalia pulled out a notebook while we introduced ourselves, and is now cross legged on her chair, with it in her lap. She seems to be flipping to find a blank page, "well, at least we won't have a problem with genre. Our first competition is in two weeks, so I think we should pick our first song right away, and then come up with a practice schedule for outside of class." Thalia has always been ambitious and a natural leader. Even aside from the fact that I know how good she is on drums, I'm grateful to have her here to take charge and diffuse any awkwardness.

Kayla looks over, seemingly to study me. I shift uncomfortably under her gaze. "As our vocalist, a lot of the song choice falls to you, Nico. What sort of style and range are you most comfortable with? Throw some bands out."

I tug my bottom lip between my teeth while I think. "I'd really like to do something by Sleeping with Sirens, but I'd like it to be the last song we do, for the finals. Sort of a finale, you know? Maybe we should start with something more popular or classic pop punk for our first song... Green Day or Panic! at the Disco or something." I look around for input, uncomfortable with everyone looking to me for the answer.

Thalia frowns a bit, chewing the end of her pen, thinking. "Why wouldn't we start with Sleeping with Sirens, if that's what you really want to do, start with a really strong first impression?"

"Not to be conceited, but hitting their range of vocals is impressive, and would really close the deal as our final song, plus that's what we'd get to perform at the festival. Also, I can't promise I can hit those notes immediately after summer break, but I know I can with some practice. We start with something well known, really set a strong impression, and ease into things more challenging to prove we're the best." I shrug, "seems like the best approach to me."

"What about Blink-182?" I glance over at Kayla, who presents the idea. "Well known and liked, vocals slightly on the higher side without being a big challenge."

Jake is nodding his agreement, "how about Rollercoaster?" He looks over at me for confirmation that this is a good suggestion. "Something upbeat and fun, some cool guitar rifts, lots of drums."

I look over at Thalia who seems to be weighing the pros and cons in her head. Finally she nods her consent. "That'll work. Okay Rollercoaster for the week 4 performance. Do we want to go ahead and pick the week 6 song, or hold off for now? Then week 8 we'll do Sleeping with Sirens - do you have a specific song in mind Nico?"

I shake my head, lose strands escaping my ponytail and falling into my face as I do so, "I'll think about it and get back to you."

Kayla is the one who addresses Thalia's first question, "I think we can hold off for now and focus on the first song. How about we pass our phones around and add each other so we can text about practice schedules and such though." She pulls out her own phone, unlocking the screen before passing it to Thalia. I reluctantly do the same, passing mine to Jake. "I have morning classes for the most part, so I'm free pretty much any evening. What about you guys?"

I grit my teeth to stop the automatic growl that rises in response to someone asking, what seems like a personal question, about my daily schedule and habits. Thalia tosses me a glare (apparently I didn't stifle the growl as much as I thought I had) silently reprimanding me and conveying this is a completely normal question. After a few more minutes of discussing possible meeting times, we break up for the day and head in different directions across campus.

By this point it's late afternoon on a Friday, and campus is bustling with students relieved to be finished with classes for the day. I pull out my headphones and turn up the music as I walk back towards the dorms, but even without hearing them can feel the excitement of students making plans for the night all around me. I duck my head and allow myself to get lost in the sea of people.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the feels.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: references made to previous self-harm.

_Nico_

 

Jason looks up from his desk where he's studying when I enter the room. I give him a nod, drop my backpack on the floor, and fall back on my bed. I close my eyes and let the music from my headphones continue to course through me as I mull over the turn of events the course of today took. I never knew Will had a sister, and realize that I actually know nothing of his family, aside from the fact that he's from Texas and would go back there for the holidays when we were in school. Earlier the ache of seeing Kayla and how much she looks like my memories of Will stemmed from missing Will himself, but now I feel the dull longing spreading and expanding into something much more painful and overwhelming.

I rip my headphones out and stalk over to the bathroom, slamming the door behind me and locking it before Jason can ask me what's going on. I can't stand to talk to him right now. I turn the shower on, the heat higher than will be comfortable. I try and avoid the mirror as I strip off my clothes, leaving them in a pile on the ground, but fail and catch sight of long dark hair and eyes. I harshly rip the hair band from my ponytail, throwing it on the counter, before yanking back the curtain and climbing into the shower. I hiss as the water scalds my skin, but enjoy the distraction the pain brings. It's not enough to stop the whimper that escapes my lips, and then suddenly I'm drowning in the overwhelming emotions. I brace both my palms on the shower wall, letting the water run down my back, head hanging as tears stream from my face and water from my long hair. My entire body is shaking, wracked with great choking sobs that rattle me to the core.

It's been a long time since the pain has hit me this hard, knocking the breath out of me, but contemplating the resemblance between Kayla and Will reminds me what it was like to be the near mirror image of my own sister, and it's like having my other half ripped away again. Like claws pulling at my body and tearing me apart. I clench my hands into fists, nails digging into my palms. I normally keep them short, knowing that I do this, but I've let them grow too long, and I feel the skin give way to small, crescent grooves.

I don't know how long I stand there, but eventually I straighten and quickly wash myself down, the soap stinging the wounds in my palm. Getting out, I dry off my hair and body, and secure the towel around my waist. Searching through Jason's things, it takes a few minutes to find what I need. I pull out a set of hair cutting shears and clippers. It takes me longer than I'd like to admit to set the shears aside, fighting the urge to relapse into punishing myself for being alive. Instead I set up the clippers and snap on the #2 guard. I comb out my hair, the water weighing it down and straightening it, so that it falls past my shoulders. I section off the top, being careful that the line on both sides is divided straight and equal, before tying it on top of my head. I can't avoid the mirror any longer, and brace myself for the reflection that is too similar to hers.

There are days when I love how similar Bianca and I are. Dark hair and even darker eyes, sharp features and bone structure, reminiscent of an era long gone. It's as if I carry a piece of her with me then, as if sharing her face and features, I can share parts of life that she never got to experience. But there other times, like now, when it becomes too overwhelming. Too painful. Too much. When it's a constant reminder that I'll never see her again, and that I wish it could have been me.

And so, I switch on the clippers and lift them to the side of my head. Slowly and methodically, I shave away the long, inky strands, until I'm left with a neat undercut. I untie the top, and pick up the shears and my comb. I leave a few inches, but cut away the vast majority. When I'm finished, I breathe a little easier. The process has calmed me substantially, giving my hands and mind a task to focus on. My reflection is remarkably different for what should have been such a small change. Everything about me is less androgynous, and more masculine. If possible, my features are sharper. My jaw and cheekbones more defined. My eyes, no longer hidden, more intense. I no longer see a mirror image of my dead sister, but am relieved to see some similarities still there. Not enough to cause distress each time I see myself, but just enough that I don't feel separated from her entirely. It's an odd change to wrap my head around, but I feel much more at peace. Who knew a haircut could make such a difference...

I put away Jason's clippers and shears, and locate the dustpan in the small closet. I sweep and toss the large amount of hair that has accumulated, tug my clothes back on, before unlocking the door. My hand on the knob, I brace myself for an assault from Jason. I know that these walls are thin and don't mask much sound at all, I'm sure he could hear my sobbing, and am dreading facing his questions.

"Oh my gods, your hair!"

I blink in surprise when it isn't Jason waiting for me. Glancing around the small room, I see he's not there at all. Instead, perched on my bed (and now staring in complete shock) is my half-sister Hazel. I'm caught off guard by the relief that washes over me, not only at being spared Jason's questions, but that my sister is magically here when I need her most.

I cross the room, sit down next to her on the bed, and wrap my arms around her waist, burying my face in her neck. Breathing in her scent; distinctly sweet with a hint if cinnamon, but all Hazel. "What are you doing here, sis?" I whisper into her hair.

Her left hand comes up to rub my back, while the right gently runs over my new undercut. The movement of the hair feels funny, but nice, and I nuzzle closer and sigh. There's something about being near my sister that is calming and safe, even when I felt like I was falling apart not a half an hour ago. "Jason called and said you might need me right now. He went over to Piper's, and said they can come back with take-out whenever you're ready. What happened, Neeks?"

From anyone else, the nickname would drive me crazy, but Hazel could get away with murder from me. So instead of scowling I just sigh, and pull back and scoot further onto the bed, leaning against the wall. She waits patiently while I consider how to express myself. She understands better than anyone that sometimes I'm not intentionally difficult when asked questions concerning emotions; it's genuinely hard for me to understand or express the way I'm feeling or why I feel that way.

"So... there's this person I used to know. And today in class, there was a girl who looked identical to them. And then the teacher said her name, and they have the same last name. So it's gotta be their sister. And then I was thinking about..." my throat feels tighter, the words thick as syrup, "about siblings who look so much alike and the way they look together, and..." I don't know what else to say or what I'm even trying to say anymore. How to convey the depth of confusion and hurt that swirled in me thinking of Will and Kayla together and smiling. Able to go to college together, and see each other whenever they want. I don't notice that Hazel has shifted to kneel in front of me until she pulls me hard against her. I knot my hands in her shirt and hot tears burn a trail down my cheeks.

"I'm sorry Neeks, I know how hard that must have been... that's why you cut your hair, isn't it. To not look... as similar?" I nod, sniffing. She hesitates a moment, "did you cut anything else?"

There's no judgement in her voice, only worry. I pull back and wipe the tears from my cheeks, shaking my head. Then I remember and look down opening my hands, "oh, well, I might have hurt my palms a bit on accident... my nails are too long. But no, I didn't do anything like that, Hazel."

She takes me face in both her hands, her thumbs drying the last of my tears. "I'm proud of you, dear. You made it through a tough day and chose a great way to cope and address the problem." She smiles sweetly, and I try and give an answering one, but it doesn't feel right on my lips. "Do you want to talk about anything else?"

I shake my head and lean forward to kiss her forehead. "No, thanks for being here though, sis."

"That's what sisters are for. Now, what are you in the mood for Jason to bring for dinner? I'm thinking pasta."


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your kudos are like crack, thanks so much you guys!

_Will_

 

I've already been in the library for several hours when I notice there's a missed call and a bunch of unread text messages on my phone. I set my notebook down on top of my open text book and run my hands over my face, a stress induced habit I seem to have acquired in college. Unlocking my phone I see there are a few messages in the group text with Lou Ellen and Cecil, one from my mama, and one from Kayla.

Lou and Cecil wanted to see if I'd meet them for dinner. Glancing at the time I see it's already 10, and they've been messaging me since 6... whoops. I shoot off a text apologizing and letting them know I was caught up studying in the library.

The message from my mama makes me smile, just letting me know she loves me and hopes everything is going well. That she can't wait to see me at Thanksgiving, and to make sure I'm eating right. I set a reminder in my phone to call her tomorrow. Which reminds me to check who the missed call was from. Kayla. I kinda feel bad that it's already the fourth week of school and I haven't seen her at all this semester. I think I really need to make some time to see her, before opening her text.

 

[Kayla 20:38]: Hey Will! I'm sure you're in the library or somethin so don't feel bad about not answerin my call. Just wanted to see how you were doin and see if you're free Friday night? I have a performance and thought you might wanna come. And I know you won't take a break if you're not forced to, so consider this a guilt trip that I'd really like it if you came to my show. 0:) Let me know if you can make it and I'll give you the rest of the info! Love ya

 

I can't stop the chuckle that rises in my chest and can feel the glares aimed at me by students in the otherwise silent library.

 

[Will 22:02]: Right as always, sister darlin. Still in the library but just saw your message. I'd love to come to your show. I'll drag Cecil and LouLou along too, just let me know when and where.

[Kayla 22:04]: Yay! 7:00 Friday in the courtyard outside the student union. There are 8 bands so idk when I'll actually go on. I can let you know that night when I get there if you don't want to stand through them all? They should be pretty good though if all ya'll don't have plans for your Friday night. I think there's even gonna be some beer stands, food trucks and stuff.

[Will 22:05]: I'll be there for the whole thing, of course! I'll bribe Cecil with the beer though (;

[Will 22:06]: What kinda music?

[Kayla 22:09]: Well the band I'm in is doing pop/punk/rock stuff, but idk what the other bands are doing.

[Kayla 22:10]: It's sorta a battle of the bands thing, so it's kinda secret what everyone's doin, ya know? I'm excited though :) If we survive this round we'll have another concert in 2 weeks.

[Will 22:12]: Alright well let me know when that one is too and I'll definitely be there!

[Will 22:15]: I guess I better pack up and head back to the dorms though... I'll talk to you later

 

I look back down at my table and realize a small natural disaster has attacked my table. There are text books, notes, flashcards, an empty coffee cup, and wads of paper I have no recollection of creating, scattered across the surface. I run my hands down my face one more time, before moving to start cleaning the mess up. Once I have contained everything to a neat pile, I stick most of it in my backpack, and carry the textbooks that don't fit, before heading out of the library.

It's a relatively warm evening for early October in New York. I enjoy it, closing my eyes for a moment, savoring the smell of autumn in the air. The leaves are starting to turn and I know soon everything will be bursting with vibrant colors. I can't help but smile as I stroll towards the dorms, enjoying being outside.


	15. Chapter 15

_Will_

 

"Nope, pick something else."

I turn around and look at Lou Ellen. She's putting on her eyeliner, compact held close to her face, and not even looking at me. "Are you talking to me?"

"Yep, different outfit."

"What's wrong with my outfit?!" I look down, confused, at my attire. I'm wearing an old pair of work jeans I usually wear around the farm when I'm feeding the horses or gather eggs, and an orange t-shirt featuring a faded Reese's logo. I wince. Okay, maybe I know what's wrong with my outfit. "I wasn't planning on dressing up for this or anything, it's just an outdoor concert. What exactly are you expecting me to wear?"

Lou finally looks away from the small mirror in her hand to glare at me, as if this is the most obvious thing in the world. "There will be cute boys there. You're not wearing jeans that have literally been through horse shit in the past, and that shirt is fine for laying around the dorm, not for public. I happen to know you are capable of looking like a handsome, educated man, so strip off your farmhand clothes and try again." She refuses to look away, so I give in turning around, all the while grumbling.

"I am not looking to find any cute boys tonight, so get that idea out of your head." Despite my claims, I grab the hem of my shirt, dragging it over my head and tossing it carelessly on the ground. Sighing, I dig through my armoire for something she'll deem suitable. I find a white oxford shirt, pulling it off the hanger and tossing it towards my bed. Yanking open the drawer at the bottom of the armoire, I locate my nicer pair of jeans (that haven't been through horse shit...) and those join the pile on my blanket. Next I dig around for a belt, figuring I might as well do this properly. After a soft brown belt joins the new outfit on my bed, I unbutton my jeans, stepping out and kicking them towards a pile of my clothes in the corner. Pulling on the clean jeans, I'm slightly uncomfortable at how they hug my body. They fit perfectly, like they were tailored to every curve and sit in just the right spot on my hips, but I'm used to old jeans so worn they are too loose so these feel foreign to me. Nonetheless, I slide my belt through the loops, fingers working to secure the buckle. Finally, I slip my arms into my shirt, deftly buttoning it, and rolling the sleeves up to my elbows, before turning to face muster.

Lou Ellen runs a critical eye over my change of clothes, but I can tell by the smug smile slowly appearing that she's pleased with my choices. "That shirt makes your shoulders and arms look crazy good. Brown boots?"

"Yeah, just have to find them."

She nods her approval, makes a final adjustment to her makeup, before snapping the compact shut. Hopping off the bed, she storms across the room to pound on the bathroom door with the side of her fist. "Hurry the fuck up, Cecil. You seriously take longer than a girl to get ready, how did I put on makeup and you're still in there?"

The door swings open and I see Lou Ellen freeze. Cecil is standing there, hands braced between the door frame and the edge of the now open door. He's wearing soft brown pants, a white button down, open at the neck, and an earthy green waistcoat, accentuating his trim build. His usually messy brown hair has been parted neatly, sweeping back from his face, the front gently falling to touch the tips of his ears.

Lou is still frozen in front of him without saying anything (a miracle, really) and judging by the back of her neck, I can only assume her face is blushing. A lazy grin spreads across Cecil's face as the silence stretches. His playful, cocky smile seems to snap her out of her trance though. "About time. Find your shoes and let's go before we're late." She spins on her heel and marches right past me, yanking the dorm door open and walking out without waiting for either of us.

I chuckle, looking back to Cecil, "you look good, man." He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't need to, his answering grin says it all. Turning back to my bed, I dig underneath until I find my brown boots. Slipping them on and lacing them up, I tuck my jeans over them and straighten. Cecil is just finishing tying his oxfords and I gesture for him to lead the way out the door.


	16. Chapter 16

_Nico_

 

"You invited WHO?!"

"My... brother?" Kayla looks around, clearly mystified as to why this was a big deal.

I rake my fingers aggressively through my hair, aggravated for the moment at how short it is, making my irritated habit more difficult to enact. I let out a low growl, "I'm going for a walk." Spinning on my heel, I shove my hands in my pockets and stalk away from the group.

As I'm walking away I hear Kayla ask Thalia, "what did I do wrong?" I almost feel bad. It's not like she knows I've had a monumental crush on her brother for... fuck, how many years?! What is wrong with me. Why haven't I moved on? Why can't I forget his touch, those eyes... Ughhh. I both loved and dreaded being taken to the infirmary in school when I was injured. I hoped he would be there, that I would get to see him, that he would be worried and care for me. But I hated being drug into the infirmary for anything self inflicted, I'm sure he knew and was repulsed by me.

Despited being extremely introverted, I rarely have nerves before a performance. Stepping on that stage I can be someone different, someone else. The swarms of people don't bother me when I'm on the stage, surrounded yet separated from it all. But now my stomach seems to be in knots. I tug the hood of my black sweatshirt vest onto my head, hiding my face in its folds, before heading towards a small grove of trees a short distance behind the stage.

The sun is setting, casting long shadows across the pavement as it cuts through the trees. I step off the path and melt into the encroaching darkness, welcoming the solitude. I wander a ways until I find a tree out of sight of the nearest building and the sidewalk, before sinking to the ground, leaning against the wide trunk. I let my head fall back, rough bark digging into my skull. The earth is soft, warm, and slightly damp under me. Not in the "just rained" sort of way, but rather the "living, breathing entity" sort of way. I close my eyes and run my fingers through the grass, letting the vitality of nature wash over me in calming waves.

I force my mind to empty, focusing on my surroundings, listening to the wind and the distant noises of the crowd. Once the rising levels of panic lower, I allow my thoughts to return to Will. I wonder if he remembers me. I wonder if he'll even recognize me, or if I flipped out at Kayla for nothing. I tell myself I hope he doesn't, that I don't have to face that part of my past, but I know that I'm lying. I'm terrified, yet excited that he'll be here. That the choice of seeing him again has been taking from my control, and I already know that I'll be scanning the crowd from the stage for that messy mop of blonde hair. I hope he remembers me... The idea of being so hung up on someone and meaning absolutely nothing to them is even more crushing than the fear of facing them again after all these years. But honestly? I wouldn't blame him if he doesn't remember me. After all, what is there worth remembering? And if he does remember me, it probably wouldn't be a good thing.

My throat feels tighter as my emotions get the best of me, and I decide to push this line of thought away for another time. Opening my eyes, I see the sky has turned a deep purple. Still enough streaks of light that I can't see the stars yet, but dark enough that night has fallen. At least two bands have played their sets so far, and I sigh, deciding it's time I head back. Pushing myself up off the ground, I dust off my torn up jeans, trying to remove the dirt still clinging to the fabric. Straightening up, I roll my shoulders and focus my thoughts solely on the music, the stage, the performance to come. Once I feel myself settle into that place mentally, of singleminded focus, I head purposefully back to the band.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, not sorry, for that cliff hanger. (;
> 
> Lyrics, of course, are Rollercoaster by Blink 182.

_Will_

 

Cecil, Lou, and I arrive about halfway through the lineup, knowing that Kayla is going on last from the text she sent me earlier. We hang out near the back, downing a few crap beers from the food trucks parked along the road. The stage is set up in the back of a cul-de-sac outside of the student union. Behind the stage is a grove a trees, like a someone dropped a miniature version of a fairytale forest in the middle of campus for anyone who needs to escape the hustle and bustle for a little while. Lights have been set up, shining colored roaming beams out into the crowd, and blinding white spotlights onto the performers.

The band on stage hits their final chord, reverberating out through the air. The lights cut to completely black, and I have to blink several times to not be completely blind. My eyes slowly adjust, and I look up at the stars twinkling overhead. I'm not sure if it's the energy, clear night, or the beer, but they seem to sparkle a little brighter than normal.

The crowd is talking and laughing in the brief intermission while the next band sets up. The sound of shuffling band equipment can be heard in the background, but it's too dark to really make out what's going on onstage from where I'm standing. Cecil and Lou Ellen are laughing, their former awkwardness gone, and engaging in a playful arguement about whether pirates or ninjas are cooler, and the benefits of being each. I can't help but smile and feel my eyes soften listening to which would win in a sword fight. If either noticed I'd blame it on the alcohol, but secretly I wish I had someone to banter with the way they do, even if they aren't together. Times like this, when they get so wrapped up in their conversation, they forget the rest of the world exists. I don't mind, it's fun to watch, but it also makes my heart ache for what they have. To have someone else I can lose myself in, even if it's just in silly conversations about pirates vs ninjas, (sorry, Lou, but it's totally ninjas.)

My back is to the stage when a familiar drum rhythm and guitar riff burst into the air, at the same time that the lights all flare on, blindingly bright. I'm still squinting, shielding my eyes, when a familiar voice joins the instruments.

 

 _Breathing deeply,  
_ _Walking faster..._

 

I must be imagining it, hearing things. Conjuring what I want to hear, as I slowly turn towards the stage. The first thing I notice as the spots clear from my vision, is Kayla's curly blonde hair, falling in her face as she looks down at her bass. I know I should be devoting my attention to my sister, but my eyes are already scanning for the vocalist.

 

 _Leave me standing here_  
_Act like I'm not around_  
_The coast will probably never clear_  
_Can I please go home now?_

 

Center stage, chin proudly held high as he sings into the mic, dark eyes gazing out into the crowd. Dark messy hair, with a severe, short, undercut. Long fingers rapidly moving across the strings of the black guitar hanging over his shoulder. I belatedly realize I'm moving forward, with no recollection of ordering my feet to do so, weaving through the crowd towards the stage. I'm still several rows of people back from the stage when I stop, unable to move further without shoving bodies out of my way. I stare, completely enraptured, and utterly unsure if this is all a dream or not. He's older, of course, stubble darkening his chin, his jawline sharper, features more angular, without the roundness of boyhood. He still has dark circles under his eyes, though his skin, even in the spotlight, definitely has more color. The olive hue of his Italian heritage is captivating, and I can't tear my eyes away.

 _Nico, Nico, Nico._ My heart seems to pound in time with the name repeating in my head.

It slowly dawns on me that I was mistaken when I believed he was gazing out into the crowd, as the song plays on, I realize he is gazing _over_ the crowd. Almost as if he's avoiding looking into the sea of people. Maybe he's nervous, although the rest of him seems oddly at ease on the stage, in a way I can hardly reconcile with the loner, shadow of a boy from my past.

I drag my eyes away briefly to look at Kayla. It seems she spotted me in the crowd and is grinning at me, her eyes a mixture of questioning and mischievous. I shudder, knowing I'm going to have to answer to that later, but manage to give her a smile and thumbs-up. After all, I am here to be the supportive big brother, not ogle her vocalist. So if I know that, why are my eyes drawn back to him, as if by a magnet?

 

 _I had that dream_  
_About you again_  
_Where I wait outside_  
_Until you let me in_

 

I know the song is coming to an end, and I begin to panic. What if I never see him again? I drink in every detail of him, trying to commit it all to memory. From the way his black, torn jeans, hang low on his hips, to the way his lips form the words of the song. I've been studying his lips a bit too long, when I realize his eyes have dropped from the horizon line, and are meeting mine with energy akin to a lightning bolt.

 

_Let me kiss you one last time  
Goodnight, goodnight_

 

I can't bring myself to look away, my breath coming too fast, until he drops his eyes to his guitar for the last few notes, and the lights cut to black. The crowd goes wild, (they were good, the best of the night,) but I'm frozen in the middle of the mass of people, still staring at the spot where Nico was moments before. I'm only vaguely aware of a hand on my shoulder, guiding me away and don't recognize the person as Cecil until we're standing next to the water fountain outside the college of business. I know that he's speaking to me, but my head feels like it's underwater, none of the words reaching my ears as more than general noise. It isn't until Kayla shows up and takes my hand that my eyes begin to refocus and I look around dazed. A girl holding drumsticks is standing a short way behind her, next a boy carrying a guitar bag. Cecil is knocking fists with the guy, they must know each other from some class or something. I'm trying to place the drummer's face when Jason Grace walks up, and I realize she's the sister I saw with him on graduation day, taking photos together.

I snap to complete attention when I catch part of their conversation, "...and you don't know where he is?"

"No, as soon as we came off stage, he grabbed his guitar bag and walked away before even putting his instrument away, without a word to anyone."

Kayla's hand comes up to touch my cheek, drawing my face down to look at her, breaking my attention from the Grace's conversation. "Hey." Her voice is soft and laced with concern.

I give her the loving smile, reserved for my baby sister, "hey, you were incredible up there."

"Thanks, but Will, what's wrong? You didn't even seem to know where you were when I walked up."

"Guess I was so into the music I lost track of everything else." I smile wider, guiltily (she knows how into music I can get) in an attempt to allay her fears, but I can tell it's only half working. Her eyes are narrowed, eyeing me critically, trying to tell what I'm withholding. I sigh and look down, running my fingers through my hair. "So... your vocalist... what's his name?" I try for nonchalance, but hear my attempt fall flat. My voice is shaky, betraying my nerves.

Kayla is still studying me, but it's less critical now, and there's a ghost of a knowing smile at her lips. "Nico. He's kinda cute, huh?"

"Yeah... he kinda is," my voice a whisper. Meanwhile, my head is screaming that this is the understatement of the century, but I prefer to keep it simple. After all, Kayla has to work with this guy for the entire semester. She doesn't need to know that her brother has the world's biggest crush on someone so completely out of his league. Remembering the conversation between the Grace siblings I look over at them. Their heads are together talking quietly, eyebrows knit in matching expressions of worry. "You guys don't know what happened to him after the concert?"

"Not exactly..."

It's my turn to study her, trying to determine what she's hiding. I cock an eyebrow in question and she sighs dramatically in response. "Well, he may have stormed off before the show from something I said, and only came back shortly before the show. And then he took off again after. So, I mean, it's possible those are related." Her voice is hardly more than a mumble, and she's playing with the hem of her shirt, a habit I remember her doing whenever mama would question where she had been, why she was covered in mud, or where the last of the cookies had gone. "Do you know each other?"

I cough, caught off guard by her question. She looks up, amused, raising an eyebrow at me while she waits for an answer. "Er... We went to the academy together, so I knew him, I suppose you could say, though I don't know if we _know_ know each other, or if he would remember me or..." I snap my mouth shut, realizing I'm rambling. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, the reason he ran away before the show is because we were talking about who of our friends were coming tonight and I mentioned I had invited my brother. I never mentioned your name, but he flipped out and stormed off. Seeing you staring at him on stage, I realized you two must know each other."

"I didn't know he goes here. I haven't seen him since I graduated high school."

"He just transferred here this semester. I don't know much of anything else about him though, or where he's been, he's surprisingly tightlipped. I'm pretty sure he growled at me when I asked his class schedule"

I can't help the laugh that bursts forth at that, "yeah, that's definitely my Nico." My eyes go wide, "I mean, the Nico I know. He's not MY Nico, just not a different Nico I don't know. Ugh.. You're never going to let me live that down are you..."

"Noooope!" She draws out the o, and pops the p. I look up to the sky, pleading for the earth to just open and swallow me whole at this point. I decide to change tactics, since this is not going well with Kayla at all. Cecil and Lou Ellen are standing talking to the guitarist, and Jason and his sister are standing off together. Two other girls have joined them, neither of whom I recognize.

"Grace!" I shout to get his attention. He looks across the fountain and seems to see me for the first time. "Any idea where he went?"

"Oh good, it's just like old times. Not a clue, but I think you should come with me, if you're free. I've been patching him up the past few years, but am not nearly as good at it as you, and he hasn't gone completely missing like this in a long time. I can only imagine how well this will end." Jason's smiling, but I can see the real concern behind the easy banter.

"Well, let's get going then." I wave to Cecil and Lou Ellen as I walk away, falling in step with Jason. Kayla, Jason's sister, and the two other girls trail behind us.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't leave you with that kind of cliff hanger before I go out of town (;
> 
> That said, I will be out of the country for 2 weeks. I'm hoping to write and update while I'm traveling, but no promises. Hopefully this tides you over though!

_Will_

 

We head towards the center of campus, without a real direction, while discussing where Nico could have run off to. "I think he's still on campus. He couldn't have gotten very far by now."

Jason shakes head, "I don't know man, there's that bridge over the river and I bet he could find a way to sit under it over the water and be out of sight."

"Yeah, but remember that time he climbed the service ladder and was sitting on top of the bell tower? I'm sayin' we outta check by the clock tower. Besides, he has his guitar, do you really think he'd take that over the water?"

"That's true-"

Kayla catches up and steps between us, interrupting, "okay, but don't ya'll think just _maybe_ you're jumping to conclusions right now?"

I share a look with Jason over her head, "no," we respond in unison.

One of the girls I don't recognize huffs and stops walking, forcing us to stop and turn to look at her. "Well I know my brother, and I think you're both being ridiculous. I get that he was bad when he was younger, but he's been doing great these last two years-"

"You're Nico's sister?!" I cut the girl off, too shocked to be polite. She has curly, cinnamon brown hair, luminous gold eyes, and skin like hot cocoa on a dark winters night. After getting past the obvious differences between her and Nico though, I start to notice smaller similarities. Like the curve of their lips, and the way the corner twitches before they smile. The line of their noses, straight brow, and especially the look of amusement directed at me right now.

"Half-sister, but yes. I don't think we've met, I'm Hazel." A small hand is extended, that I grasp in a quick shake.

"Will Solace."

Very unlike Nico, is the warm smile directed at me. "I think you're both overreacting. He's probably back at the dorm or something right now."

Kayla and Jason's sister are staring at each other, as if in silent conversation, and I'm impressed with their ability to do so. A pang of guilt shoots through me when I realize this is someone my sister is clearly close with and I know nothing about them. Some brother I am.

"Oh, duh. Sorry, man, I forgot you haven't met everyone before." Jason has always been kind of oblivious, but apparently he's finally catches on that I don't know any of these people. "This is my girlfriend, Piper." He gestures towards the other girl I've never met. She has choppy brown hair with a feather in it, and random sections braided off. When I meet her eyes I'm slightly dazed, it's almost as if they can't decide on a single color and so keep shifting. She gives me a wave and a wicked grin that almost reminds me of Cecil when he's up to something. I like her already. "Have you met my sister before?"

I glance over towards the girl, "never met her, but saw you together at graduation. What's her name?"

"Thalia," she turns away from Kayla, answering me herself, before striding over to shake my hand. Her grip is strong and commanding. I can't say I'm not a little bit intimidated. I catch a whiff of sweat from the performance, and something vaguely earthy, which seems to fit the wild look in her electric blue eyes.

"It's nice to meet you, I'm Kayla's brother, Will." Her gaze sweeps across my face, and she gives me a nod. I feel like I've just passed some sort of test, but I'm not entirely sure what for.

I point back and forth between Kayla and Jason, "Kayla, Jason. Jason, Kayla."

She gives him a huge sunny smile and waves happily, while he glances between the two of us. "The resemblance is uncanny."

Hazel turns at this, and looks between Kayla and I as well. "Oh... OH." Jason looks at her inquisitively, but she shakes her head, and he doesn't ask. "We should get back on topic here."

Kayla indicates over her shoulder with her thumb, "ya'll are welcome to look where you want, but Thalia and I are headin' to the music building. We've each separately found him in our private practice room in the middle of the night on multiple occasions. I'm almost positive that's where he's run off to now."

I look back to Jason, he knows Nico better after all. I'll trust his judgement whether this is a real possibility.

He sighs and rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, "who are we to defy our sisters?" he asks me. I give him an answering smile, and turn to follow the girls.

The music building is empty, but I keep my mouth shut, following Thalia and Kayla through the dark, twisting halls. We climb a few flights of stairs and end up in another dark hallway, but this time I can hear a faint guitar. The sigh that escapes my lips is a mixture of defeat, that Jason and I were overreacting, and relief...that Jason and I were overreacting. Hazel smiles smugly at me, and I return a relieved one of my own. Her face softens, from a look of victory, to something I can't place.

Thalia stops and turns, holding up a hand to signal the rest of us to halt as well. "Alright, we found him, he's safe. I think we should leave him alone." Jason opens his mouth to protest, but Thalia beats him to it, "yes, I am specifically talking to you, Jason Grace. You're entirely too overprotective of him. He's been coming here when he's stressed for the past month, rather than getting into anything reckless. Don't make him feel like this isn't a safe place to come."

Jason hangs his head, properly chastised. Piper grabs him by the shoulders, and spins him around, marching him back the way we came. The rest of the party start to follow after them back down the stairs, without alerting Nico to their presence, but I hesitate, staring longingly in the direction the sound of his guitar is coming from. Surprisingly, it's Hazel who grabs my hand, gently tugging for me to follow.

"I promise, you'll see him again."

I blink rapidly, startled that she pinpointed the source of my hesitancy. I glance over my shoulder once more, before following her towards the stairs. As I walk away, the guitar decrescendos just enough that I can hear him singing.

 

 _Yeah  
__I know someday you'll have a beautiful life  
__I know you'll be a star  
In somebody else's sky  
But why  
Why  
Why can't it be _  
_Why can't it be mine_

 

Everyone is silent until we are outside of the building. Piper spins and claps her hands together, a huge smile plastered on her face. "Crisis averted, let's go out for pizza!"

This is met with a chorus of agreement from the rest of the party. I hang back, unsure of myself. This isn't my group of friends, and the only reason I was brought along was in case Nico needed medical attention. Now that there isn't a threat to his health, I'm feeling awkward and trying to come up with a way to excuse myself from their happy get together. Jason notices me backing away quietly and quickly throws an arm around my shoulders, pulling my tightly against his side, "oh no you don't Solace. You're coming with us! Pizza! Have you been to Mr. D's up on University Avenue?"

I shake my head, because honestly I haven't eaten out at a whole lot of places. Generally I grab a quick bite on campus between class and the library, or Lou and Cecil pick up take-out and bring it back to the dorms.

"Well, it's great, and you're coming with us." Jason refuses to let go of my shoulders, but I laugh and go along, happy that the awkward feeling was only in my imagination and they aren't just bringing me along for my medical skills. Kayla glances back over her shoulder and throws me a wink and a smile, apparently pleased that I'm being dragged out somewhere on a Friday night. She skips ahead to catch up with Thalia and falls into step beside the dark haired girl, talking animatedly with her hands.

"Hey Jason... is your sister single?"

Jason laughs, "sorry Solace, don't think you're her type."

"No, no!" I guess I should have realized that's how that would sound... "I actually wasn't asking for me, promise."

He follows my line of sight, "oh, hahah, guess I should have noticed that."

I roll my eyes, Jason is so damn oblivious.

"As far as I know, she's single. We'll see if that last through the night." He chuckles, the sound a deep rumble in his chest. "Is your sister... into girls?"

I consider the question, having not given it much thought. "I actually don't know, in the south it's still generally a 'don't ask, don't tell' topic. She's never dated a guy though, and seeing her and Thalia together..."

"Yeah... they are kinda obvious now that I'm paying attention to it. They're cute together though."

I smile, "yeah, they are."

Piper turns from her conversation with Hazel, smiling mischievously at me, "I'm not sharing, Will!"

"Hey! Your boyfriend came on to me!" I fire back, grinning wickedly. "I can't help it that I'm irresistible."

Hazel hides her mouth behind her hand, but I can see the smile in her eyes. Piper turns back to her, returning to their conversation, while Hazel pulls out her phone and starts texting with someone while she walks. I enjoy the easy banter and am feeling comfortable with the group by the time we reach the line of restaurants and shops on University Avenue. Thalia stops outside one of the doors and holds it open for the rest of us to enter.

The first thing I notice is the absolutely incredible smell of warm, fresh pizza. This isn't some crappy college delivery place, but an actual pizza parlor. The lights are dim, creating an inviting ambiance that works well with the rich, warm tones of the paint and decor. One wall is exposed brick, worn smooth over the years. Long, dark wood shelves line it, filled with wine bottles and liquors, with a bar of equally dark wood in front. Leather bar stools sit idly, waiting for patrons, and actually the restaurant overall is mostly empty. Jazz plays softly from unseen speakers, and I'm already in love with this place. Kayla has led the group over to a corner booth with a large round table, everyone sliding onto the worn leather seat. I slip onto the end, next to Jason, giving Piper a thumbs up when she asks if I'll have wine if she orders a carafe for the table. I pull out my ID, passing it over to the waiter, and tuck my wallet back in my pocket when he passes it back.

Time passes easily, in a blur of dry red wine, delicious New York pizza, and relaxed, playful conversation. The pizza is really out of this world. The sauce tastes like it's seasoned with real Italian spices, and the cheese is so melty it strings when you bite in to it. I can taste the wood burning oven in the smokiness of the crust. While eyeing a third piece, I don't notice the door open and someone enter the restaurant, until they are sliding onto the other end of the booth, next to Thalia. I hide my hands under the table to hide the fact that they're shaking.

Everyone keeps talking, and I'm not sure how I'm the only one who feels the entire world stop spinning. The only acknowledgement that Nico's joined us, is from Thalia sliding a piece of pizza onto a clean plate and shoving it in front of him. She glares at him until he starts to eat it, before returning to the conversation. The leather jacket that used to be several sizes too big, hiding his small frame while we were at the academy, now fits him perfectly. His shoulders are broader, filling it out, and the sleeves are tight around his biceps. I've never seen him with short hair before, but the undercut matches his rocker, leather and denim look. I want to run my palm over the short hair, wrap my fingers around the back of his head...

He looks up across the table at me for the first time, and I blush furiously, even though there's no way he could know what I was thinking about. I drum my fingers on my knees, eyes darting nervously from his dark gaze, to the table, and back again. He doesn't look away, and I reach for my wine glass, taking a sip in an attempt to calm my nerves. _He probably doesn't even remember you, chill, Solace._

"Great job tonight, Nico!" He looks away, toward Hazel, and gives her a small smile in answer. I glance gratefully over at her, and can tell her rescue was intentional. Kayla and Thalia start talking to him about how they're positive they knocked out the other band, plans for the next round, and what song they should do. When the check arrives, an argument breaks out between Jason, Hazel, and Piper over whose turn it is to pay, each insisting that it's theirs. They're so caught up, none of them notice me slip my card to the waiter, except for Nico, who remains silent. There's a chorus of 'hey!''s when they notice me signing, which I ignore.

"Is that a phone number?"

I look up at Piper, confused, then back down at the receipt tray I had shoved to the middle of the table. The restaurants signed copy must have moved when I pushed it away, and underneath is my copy, with a phone number scrawled across it in bright red pen. I dart my eyes up at Nico, and see him glaring at the receipt as if it has personally offended him.

I shrug, feigning a nonchalance I don't feel, and stand from the table, making no move to grab the receipt. I stretch my arms over my head, groaning when my spine pops. "Anyone heading back toward the dorms and want to walk with me?"

Piper and Hazel exchange a look so quick, I may have imagined it. But then Piper is shoving Jason out of the booth, "yeah we all are, let's all walk together." Everyone clamors to their feet and move towards the door, stepping out into the cool October night. It's past midnight now, and the sidewalks are filled with barhopping college students. Thalia and Kayla take up the lead again, and are quickly lost in their own conversation, weaving between the throngs of people. Jason steps in Nico's direction, but Hazel and Piper quickly link an arm through each of his, pulling him in the direction Kayla and Thalia took off, leaving Nico and I standing awkwardly outside the pizza shop.

He runs a hand through his hair, sighing, before looking up at me. "Solace."

My eyes widen a bit and I open my mouth to reply, but he cuts me off-

"Don't you dare say something about thinking I don't know your name."

-and I snap my mouth shut again. He turns and starts walking down the sidewalk and I fall in step beside him. I can't help my sheepish smile, as I look at him out of the corner of my eye. "It's good to see you too, Death Boy."

A thrill goes through me at the growl that escapes his pouting lips. "Don't call me that."

I chuckle, and it's hard to tell, but I would swear his cheeks look more flushed than normal. Must be the cool night air. The quiet between us is easier after that, and reminds me of all those times sitting at his bedside in the infirmary. Neither of us has ever felt the need to constantly talk at the other. My chest is tight just being this close to him, after years of wondering where he was. We walk like that for a bit, until the dozens of questions burning my mind become too much. I want to blurt out _where have you been_ but I know I don't have the right to do that.

"I didn't know you played guitar. Or sang, for that matter." I keep my gaze forward, but feel his flick over to me momentarily. He stays silent for long enough that I think he isn't going to comment, but when I look over at him I see he's chewing is lip, as if considering his answer. We're stopped at a crosswalk, waiting for the walk sign. The streetlight casts shadows across his face.

His voice is low and tremulous, but slowly he tells me, "I have sung for as long as I can remember, even before we moved to America, I sang at our church in Venice. I stopped for a while though, because it reminded me too much of my mother. I started learning guitar at the academy when I was 13, and hid in the music wing a lot. It relaxes me."

The light changes, and we continue our walk back onto campus. It takes me a minute or two to mull over this information, far more about himself than he's ever given me before. I want to ask about his mother, but decide not to at the moment. He's already divulged a lot more than I thought he would, and I don't want to scare him away. I'm nervous at any second he'll disappear, and feel like I'm treading on glass. Since the statement question worked well the first time, I opt to stick with that and give him the option to talk to me without feeling forced.

"Your half-sister is really sweet."

A soft smile flits across his lips, and my heart jumps into my throat. The thought crosses my mind that I'd do anything to have that smile directed at me and mentally have to slap myself. _He hardly knows you exist, and hasn't seen you in three years, knock it off._

"You have no idea just how wonderful she is. Just wait until you're around her more."

"I'll be around her more?" I ask. I think I see him blush, but apparently he chooses to ignore my question.

"I held off coming here until she finished high school. She's a freshmen this year. Absolutely brilliant, studying geology." I can hear the pride in his voice as he talks about his little sister, and it makes me think of Kayla.

"Did you know Kayla is my sister? I mean, before tonight?"

He snorts, "it's kinda hard to miss, Solace. You're like genderbent-carbon-copies of each other."

I chew my lip, trying to talk myself out of asking what's really on my mind.

"We never talked about you, if that's what you're worried about."

I know he means to reassure me, but my heart plummets. "Oh." I try to keep the hurt from my voice, but must fail miserably. He looks over at my quickly and I force myself to stare straight ahead. He looks away, and sighs again while raking his fingers through his hair. I get the feeling he does that a lot.

"I didn't tell her I knew you. I wasn't sure..." His voice trails off, and I'm not sure what he's trying to say. But apparently neither is he. "I guess I didn't feel like I had the right to say I knew you."

I can hear the self-deprecation in his words without him saying much of anything at all. I feel my eyes involuntarily flick down to the sleeves hiding his arms, before darting to his face. This time it's him staring straight ahead, avoiding my eyes. We've long since left the busy part of town, and are on a quiet path cutting across the quad. The rest of the group has left us far behind, so there's no reason to keep my voice down, but still it comes out barely a whisper. "You do." He looks questioningly at me, out of the corner of his eye.

I stop at the edge of the park that's across the street from the dorms, shifting nervously from foot to foot, staring at the ground. I clear my throat, trying to dispel the tightness. "I've missed you, ya know? So... I'd really like it if you didn't disappear after tonight."

He's silent, and I look up nervously. His expression is dumbfounded, and I'm not sure what I said wrong. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why would you miss me? Or not want me to disappear?"

I feel the panic swelling as I try to fight my emotions. There's a dozen different ways I could answer those questions, but I only trust myself with the simplest. "Because I've never known how to tell you I wanted to be your friend."

Nico's eyebrows knit together, while he studies my face with those intense, dark eyes, and I can't stand it. I look down blushing, and dig my toe into the dirt. "It's fine... we don't have to." I mumble, turning to flee, but he catches me by the wrist before I can take more than two steps. My skin feels like someone has lit a sparkler on 4th of July just below the surface of where each of his long fingers wraps around my wrist. He reaches into his pocket with the other hand and pulls out a black sharpie, before turning my arm over in his hand. Uncapping the pen, he scrawls on the inside of my wrist ten numbers in quick, efficient strokes.

"Text me." He mumbles, before releasing my wrist, striding rapidly across the street with his hands shoved in his pockets, and disappearing into one of the dorm towers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics are from Black by Pearl Jam


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE NOTE: This fic was originally rated M, but ended up going in a different direction. This chapter ended up being the only one with a small section with sexual content, if you are not comfortable with that, please skip over it - it is indicated with double line dividers. Be safe yous (:

_Nico_

 

It's hard to convince myself I'm not running away, while sprinting up the stairs two at a time, but eh. I manage. _Did I really just give Will Solace my phone number?_ Nope, nope, nope. Not thinking about that. I vaguely hear someone open a door and yell "no running" at me, but ignore them. I throw open the door to my room, and three faces turn to me expectantly.

"What?"

"We can't be surprised when you burst into a room like a bat outta hell?"

I refuse to acknowledge the slight flush rising in my cheeks and just roll my eyes at Jason. "Whatever. Adrenaline is still high from the show."

"Yeah. That's what it is."

I level a glare at Piper, narrowing my eyes, and daring her to follow up that sarcastic comment. She gives me a smug grin. I must be getting out of practice, because there is no way that's an acceptable response to the look I'm giving her. "I have no idea what you're implying, but frankly I don't care. I'm going to take a shower, I feel gross."

"Wait! You're not going to tell us about your walk home?"

I cock an eyebrow at Hazel. "You were there, we walked home from the same place. What could there possibly be to tell?"

"Well it did take you 15 minutes longer to get here."

"You guys practically ran away when you ditched me!" I throw my hands up in exasperation, "excuse me if I actually _walked_ home. Now, I'm going to shower, and I want you two," I point at each girl, making eye contact to convey my seriousness, "gone by the time I get out. And to ensure that, I'm not bringing clothes with me in the bathroom."

Hazel jumps up from her spot on the floor, blushing slightly under her smooth, dark skin. "Ooooookay I'll just be going then." She places a quick peck on my cheek and bolts out the door, as if I had threatened to drop trough right that second.

I can't really stand for anyone to see me without clothes on, but I know that Hazel is very old-fashioned when it comes to that sort of thing, and the threat is guaranteed to send her running. I only risk it when I really want her off my back though, because it can only be a matter of time before she calls my bluff... However, this time I'm off easy, and I'm only left with Piper.

She's currently leaning against the wall, and when I turn and face her, she crosses her arms over her chest and narrows her eyes at me. "Did you at least give him your phone number?"

"Not your business, McLean."

"Answer the question and I'll leave you alone for the night."

"I'll answer the question if you leave me alone for a week," I counter.

She considers it for a moment, before nodding, "fine."

I shift awkwardly from foot to foot for a moment, I had kinda hoped she wouldn't accept the counter proposal so I could storm out without answering. But I guess getting out of matchmaking hell for a week is worth it.

"Oh my gods you did!" she practically squeals in disbelief.

I growl deep in my throat, and roll my eyes at her. "Yeah. I did. Now get out, I'm going to shower. And one week, McLean! I get peace for an entire week." She's grinning and rolls her eyes at my dramatic response. I step towards the bathroom and out of the corner of my eye see her smirk at Jason and push him back onto the bed. "Dude! I'm seriously not even in the bathroom yet! You couldn't wait two seconds to straddle him? And I swear to the gods if I get out and you two are fucking again-"

"Oh come off it Neeks, you take forever in the shower, it's not like she needs to leave this second."

"That didn't answer either of the damn problems, Grace."

The only answer I get is a shit-eating-grin from Jason, and a wink from Piper, neither of which do anything to reassure me. I throw my arms up in defeat and storm into the bathroom, kicking the door shut behind me.

With the door closed, I finally allow myself to relax, a sigh escaping my lips.

_I just walked home with Will Solace. He said he wants to be my friend._

I unroll the sleeves on my shirt, and begin unbuttoning it. Shrugging it off my shoulders, it falls to the ground behind me. Reaching behind my head, I tug my undershirt off as well. I unhook the button on my jeans, but stop when my phone vibrates in my pocket. Pulling it out, the screen shows I have a new text message from an unknown number. I punch in my passcode to unlock it, and a smile tugs at my lips as I read the message. I haven't even had time to panic that he'll change his mind, and I already have a message from him.

[Will 00:48]: Hey! It's Will. Just thought I'd message you so you have my number too. And cause I couldn't remember if I told you you rocked tonight (:

Damn. I'm blushing at the compliment and he's not even here. What is wrong with me? I aggressively run my fingers through my hair, annoyed with my reaction to a stupid text message, before adding his number to my phone.

[Nico 00:58]: Thanks

[Will 01:01]: Guess you're probably headed to bed, you must be tired.

[Nico 1:02]: About to shower. I'm pretty sweaty and gross from the show.

[Will 1:04]: Oh yeah, that makes sense. Must be hot under those lights and everything.

_Nice one, di Angelo. Tell him you're gross, that's real smooth._ I slap the palm of my hand to my forehead. Before I can come up with something to say though, I see the ellipses that he's typing something else.

[Will 1:07]: Are you busy tomorrow?

[Will 1:07]: Or, I guess later today, technically...

[Nico 1:08]: Why?

[Will 1:10]: I thought maybe if you're free you'd wanna grab coffee with me and Kayla in the morning?

[Will 1:11]: I understand if you're busy though

[Will 1:11]: Or don't want to, it's cool

I'm reminded of Will outside the dorms a half hour earlier, shifting uncomfortably, nervously, and it doesn't fit with the memory I have him in the infirmary. He was always confident, cool, collected, sure.

[Nico 1:15]: Coffee sounds good.

My fingers fly across the keys. I'm terrified, but for some reason I hate the idea of Will nervous even more, and am agreeing to see him before the full weight of it hits me.

[Will 1:16]: Oh awesome!

An image of his smile flashes through my mind, and my body is tingling with warmth.

[Will 1:16]: 9:00?

I snort.

[Nico 1:17]: Over my dead body, Solace.

[Nico 1:17]: 11, if you're lucky.

[Will 1:19]: Hahaha what? Not a morning person, Death Boy?

[Nico 1:22]: Don't call me that.

[Nico 1:23]: Is that too late for you guys? It's fine if you guys are going earlier and don't want to wait for me.

[Will 1:23]: No!

[Will 1:24]: I mean it's totally fine. We hadn't set a time or anything.

[Nico 1:26]: Alright, well.. I'm gonna go shower. I've been standing in the bathroom partially undressed for half an hour, and Jason already gives me shit for taking too long in the shower.

The ellipses pop up. Then stop. Then start again.

[Will 1:30]: Guess you're used to me cutting you out of shirts in the infirmary. Just can't keep yourself dressed when talking to me, huh?

I splutter, and feel my entire body blushing. My chest is hot and I catch a glimpse in the mirror. Yep, my face is as red as a tomato. My phone vibrates in my hands, and I look back down.

[Will 1:34]: That was a joke.

I take a deep breath, trying to slow my heart, now racing at the thought of being undressed around Will.

[Nico 1:36]: Har har har. Fuck you Solace.

Just when I thought I could calm down, he responds with an emoji blowing a kiss. I throw my head back groaning.

[Nico 1:39]: Showering. Goodbye.

I slip my phone back in the pocket of my pants before pulling them off and hanging them on the hook on the door. I turn on the water, before dropping my boxer-briefs into the pile with my shirts. The mirror has already begun to fog up, as I step under the cascade of hot water. I turn and let it hit my back, the high pressure hammering like a massage on my back, and I try and let the stress fall from my tensed muscles.

Thinking back, the night had gone relatively well. Our group blew all the other bands out of the water, so I have no concerns about us making it through this round. I'm feeling pretty good about our chances to make it to the finals, to be honest.

I close my eyes and let my thoughts drift, but they keep straying to a certain blonde boy. Despite the sea of people, it took me all of 30 seconds to pick him out of the crowd from the stage. He turned and wove his way closer to the stage when we started playing, and _fuck did he look good._ I had to tear my eyes away to avoid embarrassment on stage, and remembering seems to have the same effect.

Throwing my head back, the water streams through my hair, down my neck, running down my chest. In all the years I've known him, I hardly ever saw Will out of scrubs, and if he wasn't wearing that then it was old worn out jeans and t-shirts, or our school uniform. That's it. He had no right to show up looking so fucking hot tonight. His dark jeans hugged his hips and ass in a way that was entirely unfair. As if that wasn't bad enough, he had the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to his elbows, and if I don't have a weakness for that, then the sky isn't blue. It certainly doesn't help that his forearms look so nice from years of using his hands vigorously in the medical field.

* * *

* * *

 

I can feel heat pooling low in my stomach, my dick growing harder by the second and not helping my train of thought what-so-ever. I cross my arms and grip my hands around my biceps, fingers digging in ever so slightly painfully. I had hoped it would help clear my thoughts, but I'm too far gone to stop the feelings now, and instead the bite of my nails sends a thrill down my spine, ending in my groin. I'm fully hard and wondering what it would be like to unbutton Will's shirt. I move my hands to my own chest, dragging my nails slowly down my chest, drawing a whimper from my lips. I imagine what it would be like to feel his breath quicken against my neck as I wrap a hand around my throbbing erection, hissing in satisfaction at the touch.

I jerk as I brush the pad of my thumb across my head, already dripping pre-cum from being worked up on and off for hours now. I know I won't last long after so much sexual frustration and set an aggressive pace, fingers squeezing myself hard, just the right side of rough. My breath is ragged, my thoughts on Will, always Will. His hair, his hands, his body. I want to run my fingers over every inch of him, until I know how to draw a melody of sighs, moans, and pants from his lips, as well as I can with my guitar.

_I wonder if his drawl is thicker when he's turned on._

And with that thought, of his warm, honey whiskey voice, I'm falling, drowning, coming completely undone.

_Will. Will. Always Will._

My ears are ringing, and my vision has gone white, then black, then speckled with colors. I have to blink several times before it returns to normal, before my hearing is back and I can hear myself panting, struggling to catch my breath. I look down at the mess on my stomach and hands, and the guilt comes crashing down.

* * *

* * *

 

_Unworthy. Unworthy. Always unworthy._

I grit my teeth, and set about actually showering, falling into mechanical movements.

_He just wants to be friends. And he probably only wants that because he feels sorry for you._

Shutting off the water, I snatch my towel and dry off quickly. I tie the towel around my waist, grab my pile of clothes and jeans from the back of the door, and yank the door open to the room. The light is off, and Jason is passed out. I guess I must have taken longer than I thought. I try and reign in my frustration enough to be quiet, not stomp through the room and wake him. I move through the motions of dumping clothes in the pile of dirty ones, finding clean boxer-briefs, hanging my towel to dry, before grabbing my headphones and climbing in bed with my phone.

I scroll through my music, looking for something calming to listen to, settling on American Football. As the instrumental starts up, I check my two unread texts.

[Will 1:40]: Hahahaha have a good shower

[Will 2:09]: Sleep well, Death Boy.

Glancing at the time, I see the last message was only sent a few minutes ago and frown.

[Nico 2:14]: Don't call me that.

[Will 2:17]: (:

[Nico 2:18]: What are you doing awake still Solace?

[Will 2:20]: Mmmmm can't sleep.

[Nico 2:21]: Why not?

The ellipses start and stop multiple times. My mind is a tug-o-war between being worried about Will, and the voice in my head saying he doesn't want to talk to me, he just feels sorry for me; I'm just a broken mess he feels like he needs to fix.

[Will 2:26]: Just can't.

[Nico 2:27]: ?

[Will 2:29]: Just thinking. Don't worry about me Death Boy (: how come you're still up?

[Nico 2:31]: Just got out of the shower.

[Will 2:32]: Man, Jason was right.

[Will 2:34]: You do take forever (;

[Nico 2:25]: Fuck you. Showers are not to be rushed.

[Nico 2:25]: And to think I was worried about you.

[Will 2:26]: Hahaha!

[Will 2:27]: Does that mean you're nice and relaxed then?

I snort. (Then quickly look over, but see Jason's still passed out.) Talking to Will has calmed me down a little, but remembering my shower, sends a fresh wave of guilt through me.

[Nico 2:30]: Not exactly.

[Will 2:31]: Do you wanna talk about anything?

I clench my jaw and have to stop myself from fisting my hands.

[Nico 2:34]: I'm going to sleep.

Ellipses.

[Will 2:37]: Night, Nico.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! And to make up for it, I have a long chapter for you (:

_Nico_

 

I crack open my eyes and catching sight of the clock next to my bed, can't help the groan that emanates deep in my throat. Why the hell am I awake at 8:30? I feel blindly around my bed trying to locate where my phone ended up, and am surprised to see a text message waiting for me. It's probably from Jason and I consider ignoring it, until I glance across the room and surprisingly see him still passed out.

[Will 7:32]: Let me know when you're up Death Boy so I can drag you out for coffee (;

_Oh gods. Ohgodsohgodsohgods._

What was I thinking agreeing to go out to coffee with Will this morning? It took a lot more courage than I'd like to admit to not turn back around and walk out of the pizza shop when I saw him sitting at the table last night, and that was with a large group of my friends around. I read the message again and notice the timestamp this time.

[Nico 8:41]: What the fuck were you doing awake at 7:30?

[Will 8:45]: You're awake! I thought you said not before 11 hmmm?

[Will 8:46]: Wait... does this mean it's your dead body texting me?

I groan and roll my eyes, it's entirely too early for his sass, and I consider telling him that...

[Nico 8:47]: This long distance message was sent to you from hell.

[Will 8:48]: Haha 

[Will 8:48]: Do they have coffee shops in hell that I can meet you at? (;

[Nico 8:50]: Nope, guess we'll have to cancel

[Will 8:51]: Ohhhh no you don't. You promised.

[Nico 8:52]: I did no such thing.

[Will 8:52]: Besides, I already told Kayla you're coming with us and she's all excited. You know how she gets. Smiley. Bubbly. You wouldn't want to break my little sister's heart now would you?

[Nico 8:54]: ...

[Nico 8:55]: I'm getting up...

[Will 8:56]: (:

[Will 8:56]: Meet at Aromatico at 9:30?

[Nico 8:58]: Sure

I throw my phone down on the bed next to me and drape my arm over my face, eyes hidden in the crook of my elbow. Giving into defeat I roll out of bed and start rummaging through my dresser for something to wear. Normally I don't care how I look, but suddenly nothing seems acceptable for this situation. What is the protocol for getting coffee with your long time crush who you haven't seen in three years and his little sister who you may have kinda sorta shouted at only the night before?

I rake my fingers through my hair aggressively, huffing in frustration. Behind me I hear Jason stir and mumble a sleepy "what the fuck?"

I glance over my shoulder and see him squinting at me, before groping blindly for his glasses on the desk next to his bed. Finding them, he pushes them up onto his nose, still squinting and only half awake. I see him look at his alarm clock and then back at me.

"Am I dreaming?"

"You dream about me shirtless?"

"Am I nightmaring?"

"That's not a word."

He gives me a lopsided grin, but still looks confused. "Are you actually awake before me, and also before noon, on a Saturday?"

I rake my fingers through my hair again, this time gripping it in frustration. "I don't have time for your sass, Grace."

Jason's brow lowers further in confusion, "how come you're awake?"

"I woke up," I deadpan, but he's apparently unfazed.

"Okay, why are you actually up and getting dressed?"

Pulling my hand from my hair, I shift nervously from foot to foot, before beginning to pace the small room.

"Whoah, okay. What's up Nico?" Jason's voice is laced with concern and I can't bring myself to look at him.

I can feel my cheeks heating up, my heart start to race, and my breath is coming faster now. I know that I don't have a lot of time before I'm supposed to meet Will, I haven't gotten dressed, and am seriously considering faking an illness. The only problem with that is I know it probably isn't a cop out with Will, and would more likely just have him demanding where I am so he can complete a medical evaluation...

I hear Jason get out of bed and am forced to stop my pacing when he steps in front of me, placing his hands on my shoulders. "Nico, what's going on?"

I look up into blue eyes filled with worry and I cave. "Will asked me to get coffee with he and Kayla this morning. 

Jason gives me a wry smile, his face relaxing. "And that's cause to wear a hole in our floor and give me a heart attack?" I scowl at him, but he just laughs and continues, "Nico it's just coffee. You've known Will forever, and been working with Kayla for weeks now. What's the big deal." 

I can feel the blush returning to my face and look away, trying to shrug off his hands, but he refuses to let go. I know he's studying me and try to keep my face neutral, but I've never been good at hiding anything from Jason. He's like the annoying older brother I never asked for but have no choice but to tolerate worrying about me.

"You like him still."

I didn't think it was possible to blush harder but my face feels like it's lit on fucking fire. "No! And what do you mean still? I've never liked him, I don't know what you're talking about."

Out of the corner of my eye I can see Jason's gentle smile, but he doesn't push it. Dropping his hands from my shoulders, he glances at the clock. "What time are you meeting him?"

I follow his gaze and see it's already 9:20. "Fuck. In 10 minutes."

"Better get a move on then."

But I'm already rummaging again, throwing on a pair of torn blue jeans, a charcoal grey henley, and slipping my feet into black Vans. I grab my helmet and find my jacket, tugging it on while moving towards the exit with barely a wave to Jason before I'm out the door.

Normally I would walk to the coffee shop since it's not that far, but since I'm running late now I head around the side of the building to the small garage where my motorcycle is parked. It's cool, but the sky is clear and the air crisp. It's the perfect day for a ride, and I'm anticipating needing one after this outing, so I don't feel that bad about driving the short distance. I pull my helmet down on my head and throw a leg over the bike in a smooth practiced motion that has become second nature, and soon I'm off zipping across campus.

I park in front of the café and pull my helmet off, before making my way to the entrance. Stepping in, I breath a relaxed sigh as the smell of fresh coffee greets me. I scan the space arrayed before me for matching heads of curly blonde hair, and spot the two at a round table pushed up near a window. Their faces are bathed in a warm glow of natural light that suits the two of them; as if they were born with sun in their veins and a sort of magnetism towards its rays wherever they go. 

Last night I didn't get a very good look at Will since it was dark everywhere we were, but now I take a moment to study him in the morning light. His skin has retained some of its color from summer, and when he laughs at something Kayla is telling him, his white teeth stand out brightly. The lines of his face are softer than my own, made to be cupped sweetly. I long to brush his unruly hair back from his forehead and trail my finger tips from his temple to his jaw, brushing my thumb over his lower lip. At that moment he looks over, and his face lights up at me standing in the doorway. I'm momentarily blinded by the light of that smile, and it takes a conscious effort to make my feet move and cross the room at him waving me over.

I slip into the empty seat and place my helmet on the ground at my feet, before hesitantly looking up at two smiling freckled faces and blindingly blue eyes. Will's hands are wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee, his leg bouncing excitedly.

"Hey Death Boy! Find the place alright?"

I scowl at him, but am saved from answering by the petite dark haired waitress that walks up to take my order. She ruffles my hair affectionately before dropping her hand to the back of my head as I lean back to look at her warmly.

"Fratellino! Sei sveglio presto... Il solito?"

"Sì, grazie Sofia."

She gives me a wink before disappearing back behind the counter. I turn back to the Solace siblings to find matching expressions of confusion. "What? I'm here a lot..." 

Will snaps his jaw shut from where it was hanging open and Kayla appears thoughtful. "So what do I need to do to get to the point where you don't growl at me then?" I level a glare at her but she just giggles, so I shift my gaze back to Will instead.

"I'm more interested in learning how to get away with touching your hair without losing a hand."

My eyes widen in a shock, and I think I see his do so as well, a soft shade of pink appearing beneath his dusting of freckles. He looks away, suddenly very interested in his coffee, twisting the mug in his hands. I'm not sure how to respond, especially with Kayla smirking for some unknown reason, so I'm infinitely grateful when Sofia returns, placing my double shot cappuccino in front of me. 

To buy more time in thinking of something to say, I take a sip, not bothering to wait for it to cool. Of course, I burn my tongue a bit, but still savor the espresso as it washes over my tastebuds. When I place my cup back on the saucer I see Kayla studying me, and shift uncomfortably in my seat. The corners of her lips twitch, as if she's barely containing a smile. Suddenly she downs the last of her coffee and rises from the table, throwing a canvas cross body purse over her head. 

"Well, as riveting as this conversation is, I, ah, have somewhere to be."

A choked whine escapes Will's lips and he's staring at his sister with something akin to mild panic painted across his normally sunny face. His eyes dart to me then back to her again. She narrows her own eyes at him, I'm not sure if it's a challenge or a threat, but Will's shoulders slump.

I blame it on the caffeine finally kicking in, but my brain chooses this moment to catch up. "Wait, you're leaving us alone?!"

The girl has the audacity to laugh, eyes twinkling wickedly, "you say that as if you aren't two adult men. Can you not be left alone to have coffee together?"

I glance over at Will to see him looking at me as well, and we both quickly look away. I was anticipating this going badly, but it's going even worse than I had thought possible. I glare daggers at Kayla, but she's already retreating from the table, still smiling at us. With a quick "talk to you two later!" she turns and practically skips out of the coffee shop. And just like that I'm alone with Will Solace for the second time in 24 hours, which my heart and nerves are not at all ready for.

Will clears his throat but doesn't look up from the table. "So, uh. I assume that was Italian you were speaking with the waitress?"

"Oh. Uh. Yeah. Her parents own the café. They immigrated from Italy as well. It's nice to have someone to speak Italian with sometimes."

"When did you immigrate here?" His voice is tentative, as if he's afraid of asking me questions. I study his hands, wondering whether the skin is smooth or rough to the touch, while considering how much to share with Will. On one hand, I could share a lot about myself and see if he freaks out and wants nothing to do with me, saving me the pain of becoming close with someone just to be abandoned. On the other hand, opening up isn't easy for me, and I don't want to scare Will away either... 

I lift my gaze to his face and find his eyes locked on my lips. I freeze and then realize that I have mylower lip tugged between my teeth, chewing it gently. I release it and his eyes drop back to his coffee and I think I must be over analyzing. He must have just been staring absently waiting for my response. 

"10 years ago. That's when I started at the academy."

For the first time since Kayla ditched us, he looks up and holds eye contact with me, and I have to concentrate in order to not let my breath hitch from those gorgeous azure eyes. 

His forehead creases as his eyebrows draw together. I can see him weighing his words carefully until slowly he says, "you disappeared for two years."

It's not a question, and I can feel my expression betray my surprise. "How did you know that?"

"Well, I mean you were there and then you weren't."

"You noticed I was gone?"

He gives me a crooked grin, his eyes are warm and I can feel myself melting despite the gravity of the conversation. "And you scold me for being surprised you knew my name? Yet you didn't think I noticed you were gone for a whole two years?"

I scowl at him but it does nothing to drive the smile from his face. "You didn't know me when I left. That's a lot different than you thinking I don't know your name after three years of you constantly patching me up in the infirmary."

He chuckles and finally looks away, drumming his fingers on his knees. "I told you last night, I've noticed you for a long time."

I think back to our conversation the night before and frown. "No," I reply slowly, watching his face, "you said that you didn't know how to tell me you wanted to be friends."

Will's freezes, hands stopping their rhythm and shoulders tensing. As fast as it happened though he slips back into his usual relaxed buzzing, and I wonder if I imagined it. "Same thing." He flashes me a bright smile but I narrow my eyes suspiciously. "So where'd ya go?"

"What?"

"When you disappeared from the academy. Why'd ya leave?"

"Oh." He looks at me hesitantly, and I am reminded that he isn't as self-assured as he always appeared. I give him a small smile and force my voice to be relaxed, "I'll tell you about it another time. Tell me about your family. I know you're from the south somewhere, and obviously about Kayla, but that's all I really know about you outside of school..."

His sunny smile is back and he happily starts talking animatedly, arms waving around as he tells me all about his life in Texas, his parents, his brothers, and the ranch they have down there. I lean into the back of my chair and sip my cappuccino, nodding and smiling in the right places, content to listen to Will talk about the things and people that he loves.

I hardly notice the time passing until my phone buzzes with a message from Jason, and am surprised to see that it's nearly noon. Will hesitates, checking the time himself. He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, "I guess you probably have somewhere else to be, huh." 

I cock my head to the side and raise an eyebrow at him in response, "when have I ever been shy about telling you when I don't want to be somewhere?" 

He grins, and I'm guessing is remembering the numerous occasions I demanded to be let out of the infirmary, judging by the distant look in his eyes. I slip Sophia a $20 without even looking at the receipt she brings over, before Will can protest. She returns with my change and Will stands up to follow me outside into the bright autumn day. He draws up short when he sees me walk up to my motorcycle, eyes flicking from the smooth matte body to me and back again.

"That's yours?"

"Actually I was planning on stealing it," I quip. He rolls his eyes and walks over, asking permission with his eyes before lightly running his hand along the bike. I chew my lip nervously before venturing to ask, "want a ride?"

He meets my eyes in surprise before slowly nodding. I hand him my helmet. "Put this on, we'll swing by my dorm so I can grab my spare." I climb on while he secures the helmet, waiting patiently as he clumsily climbs on behind me. I try but fail not to tense as he slides forward, body pressed against mine, my heart suddenly feeling like it's going to beat out of my chest. "Hold on to me," I mumble, lips hardly moving. His red flannel clad arms snake around my waist, a bright contrast to my black leather jacket. I rev the engine and set off towards the dorms before I can lose my courage.

I park outside the doors and tell him to wait there while I sprint up to the room. Throwing the door open, I shock Jason and Piper enough that she falls off the bed.

"Get a room," I tell them, mostly for consistency's sake, while yanking my other helmet out from under my bed.

I'm already back out the door, pulling it shut behind me when I hear her shouting after me, "what the hell, Nico!"

I slow as I come to the door trying to steady my panting breath, but give up and step outside, tugging on the helmet so Will won't notice. At the last second I flip the mask up so that he can hear me ask, "do you have anywhere to be anytime soon?" After he shakes his head no, I smile and climb back on the bike. Adrenaline shoots through me as he wraps his arms back around me.

I can't help but think _I could get used to this._ I try to push the thought from my mind as I back out of the parking spot, and point us towards a road I know will take us out of the city. I hate city driving on a motorcycle, all the stoplights and pedestrians. I release a sigh of relief as soon as we make it to my favorite place in the area to drive, a two lane road that winds through trees currently blazing brightly with leaves of fiery reds, oranges, and golds. Free of the confines of the city I open up and take off, Will's arms gripping me tighter, his body tensing for a minute, before relaxing into my back.

Between the open road, autumn colors, cool air, and Will, I'm the happiest I can remember being in years.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this wasn't up sooner, turns out I'm not immune to jet lag and man does it suck. And on top of being back at work, and feeling completely out of sync with my time zone, I have been dealing with a potentially fractured ankle >.> Anywhoooo here's the next chapter! Let me know what you think, I love hearing from you guys, it always makes my day.

_Will_

 

In the week following the earth shattering (well, to me...) concert, life seemingly returns to normal in a way I can't believe is possible. So much has changed, and yet nothing at all. When Nico and I return from a ride on his motorcycle, I cover up my blushing embarrassment of clinging to him, with a lecture on how fast he had us going. In reality, it's entirely half-hearted though because, A. he wears a helmet and clearly knows what he's doing when maneuvering and B. looks hot as fucking hell on that bike.

I'm leaned against the wall of a booth in the back of one of the university campus restaurants, remembering zipping along that back road, arms wrapped around Nico's waist, when I realize that Kayla's late. After 30 minutes, I decide to give up on waiting for her and just order my dinner. By the time my food has arrived, I start to doubt that she's coming, and once I've paid and am leaving, have reached the point of being slightly worried. Admittedly I know that it's always iffy whether she'll be somewhere on time, but after an hour of not showing up at all or answering her phone, I think I'm fully justified in being concerned. Stepping out of the student union, I hook my thumbs through the straps of my backpack and consider where is a good starting place for looking for her.

The library proves fruitless, as do the coffeeshop and her favorite park where she likes to hang her little travel hammock. I cross my arms and drum my fingers on my biceps, worrying my lip between my teeth. I think I can remember how to get to the practice room Kayla and Thalia led us to after the concert, and decide to try there. The doors are locked, but open when I swipe my student id, and I locate the same stairwell the girls led us up last time. The hallway is dark like last time, but there are students moving about. Some are coming, but most are going, locking up their practice room for the night. I don't remember exactly which room was theirs, so I walk slowly, trying to peer through the narrow windows set in the center of each door without being too creepy.

I have to double back to 327 because I only belatedly realize that I recognize the head of dark hair bent over an acoustic guitar. He stops playing to scribble something in a notebook, before going back to picking a few more chords. His eye brows are furled, and he seems to be considering the way the notes fit together. The next set he strums sounds slightly different, and his face relaxes a bit. That peaceful expression is mesmerizing, and transforms his usually brooding features. My pocket buzzes and I jump, pulled out of my revery. I step away from the door so that Nico can't look up and see me hovering outside, and pull my phone out.

[Kayla 21:09]: Oh my gods I am sooooooooo sorry Will!

[Kayla 21:09]: I COMPLETELY forgot we were having dinner, and I was studying with Thalia and wasn't paying attention to my phone!

I lean against the wall next to the door, and slide down until my ass hits the ground with a thud.

[Will 21:10]: GURL. Not cool. I've been running all over campus searching for you in a panic.

[Kayla 21:12]: I knowwwww I'm so sorry please don't be mad at me

[Will 21:13]: Ugh fine, but you're buying coffee this weekend to make up for it.

[Will 21:14]: Aaaaand telling me what's up with you and Thalia

[Kayla 21:18]: What do you mean

I'm slightly impressed my eye balls don't get stuck with how hard they roll.

[Will 21:19]: You know exactly what I mean.

[Kayla 21:21]: Welllll looks like it's getting pretty late, think I'm gonna head to bed. See ya this weekend for coffee!

[Will 21:22]: Fine, but this conversation isn't over. (: Night!

I let my head fall back against the wall as I listen to the chords drifting out from under the crack of the door. The combination of Nico's music and knowing that Kayla is fine has the tension slowly leaving my body. I huff a sigh of relief and allow my eyes to flutter shut. The music stops for a moment, and I can picture him leaned over his notebook again, writing down notes of whatever it is he's working on. It's quiet for long enough that my eyes fly open and I start to panic that he's packing up to leave and is going to find me sitting in the hallway outside and think I'm a stalker or something when-

_And it's the way you move_  
_The way you smile_  
_That makes me want  
_ _To stay a while_

His voice is so different than it was at the concert that I'm left frozen in place, eyes wide, waiting with baited breath for more. While the Blink 182 song was higher, nasally, and done in his head voice, this is seems to emanate from his chest and fill the space. It's low and husky and I want to hear so much more of it. My mind is scrambling trying to recognize the song he's singing, but I'm drawing up blank. He repeats the phrase quietly a few times, trying different notes and inflections, until he seems to find the notes he was looking for.

_And it's the way you move  
_ _The way you smile  
_ _That makes me want  
_ _To stay a while  
_ _So please  
_ _Please  
_ _Please stay  
_ _A while_  

He's quiet again and I wish I could watch his long fingers holding the pen that scrawls across the page. Suddenly it hits me, and I feel like an idiot for not realizing it sooner, that the reason I don't recognize the song is because Nico is writing it. If I didn't already feel bad for listening to him practicing without him realizing I'm there, I feel downright intrusive now.

I'm about to rise, when he starts strumming with confidence. If the last part he was working on was the end, this is certainly the opening. I wonder if he's finished it then, and I can hear the song in it's entirety... The guitar is vigorous and folkish, a contrast to Nico's usual dark punk vibe. His voice comes in, deep and slightly gravely, reaching for the lower notes.

Even more surprising than the different genre is the fact that it's a love song. My breath catches in my throat and I'm sitting stock still, not daring to move or breathe. Nico's voice caresses the lyrics like one would a lover and the amount of emotion he's pouring into the song is tugging at my seams. He's always so stoic and closed off that it's hard to believe this level of fervor is coming from the same person. The memory of 10 year old Nico, smiling and playing, rises unbidden to my mind, along with the distant sound of his bell like laughter. I wonder, not for the first time, what happened to drive someone so full of life and emotion to lock it away, and only let it escape when he's alone with his guitar.

The yearning evoked by his lyrics has my heart twisting, twinged with jealousy. The song hasn't finished, but I push myself off the wall and force myself to walk away. Away from Nico, away from the voice in the back of my head whispering that there must be someone in his life to inspire that song, before the overwhelming agony of desire tears me apart. Next thing I know I'm slamming out the door of the music building and pushing myself to run back to my dorm. Running clears my head, running makes it all better. The voice follows me, and a single hot tears traces its way down my cheek, before I force my mind to blank and my only thoughts are on my feet hitting the pavement and my backpack slapping against my back.


	22. Chapter 22

_Nico_

  
"Get up!"

"No, just leave me to die."

"You're being dramatic."

Kayla lifts her head a bit off the floor that she's laying collapsed on like a starfish. "Yeah, but you love that about me." She smiles sweetly up at Thalia, who is standing over her, hands on her hips, drumsticks grasped in her fist. I can't help but chuckle, earning a glare from the lieutenant herself, hell bent on drilling us into the ground.

"We need to keep practicing! The concert is tomorrow!"

I drop down on the floor next to Kayla while she complains about her fingers bleeding, (they're not actually) throwing one leg over hers. After nearly six weeks of working together day in and day out, I've surprised even myself with how close I've become with the girl. Part of it is that it's fun to gang up on Thalia, but mostly it's just Kayla herself. She's sweet, dramatic, sarcastic, and when she's determined to be your friend there really is no stopping her it seems. (I refuse to admit that any of it has to do with the fact that she's Will's little sister and that I have a growing sense of protectiveness towards her for that reason...) Kayla rolls over to throw herself on me in a fit of dramatics, but I stop her with a hand to the face, holding her at arms length.

"We're still not cuddling Kayla."

"But Nico save meeeeeeee. She's being meeeeeeean." Her words are muffled by the palm of my hand, but somehow, no less whiney.

I look up at the girl towering over us without bothering to remove my hand from Kayla's face. "Thalia, we're ready. It's not going to do us any good if our fingers are too stiff to move tomorrow, which, might a remind you, is not something you have to deal with."

Thalia looks over to Jake for support, but is met with a sheepish smile.

"Jake?"

"Actually, my fingers are hurting pretty bad too..."

Kayla lays back on the ground, throwing her arms over head victoriously. Thalia groans, before dropping herself on the ground as well.

"Geeze, and I thought your girlfriend was the one prone to dramatics..."

Kayla sputters, "What?! We're not-"

Thalia on the other hand, snaps a kick at my ankle from where she's laying.

I cackle, arms wrapping around my sides and I can't catch my breath, "definitely didn't mention Kayla. That was too easy." I swipe away a tear escaping from the corner of my eye and glance over at Kayla. She has both hands covering her face, but I can see scarlet between her fingers. I reach over and poke her in the side, causing her to jump and squeak, but am forced to cut my teasing short when my phone vibrates in my pocket. Pulling it out I see a new group text. The message is from Will, but sent to both Kayla and I.  
  
[Will 20:34]: I'm just leaving the library and realized I'm way late for dinner, but thought I'd see if either of you haven't eaten yet? A mischievous grin pulls at my lips, but I try and keep it together to avoid drawing attention to myself as I tap out a reply before Kayla can.

[Nico 20:35]: We just finished practice and haven't eaten yet.

[Nico 20:35]: Kayla wants to know if she can bring Thalia though.  
  
I see Kayla pull her phone out a moment later and then, "NICO, WHAT THE FUCK?!" She lashes out, whacking me with the back of her hand on my ribs, before rolling over and throwing herself on to me. I can't help laughing maniacally, and soon it's an all out wrestling match, while Thalia and Jake look on utterly confused. There's no real challenge in wrestling with Kayla, but I enjoy the easy banter of it too much to actually put effort in and beat her. If I were trying I'd have her pinned in five seconds flat, but instead I roll around with her good-naturedly, and see Thalia grab Kayla's phone out of the corner of my eye. I smile smugly when I see that she knows the passcode.

"What? Tell me I'm wrong."

"Oh, real mature Nico."

I flip Kayla off me with a well aimed hip toss before rising gracefully to my feet and straightening my shirt. "Well, it's been nice. But I for one, am famished and believe I will go find some dinner now." I bend over and scoop up my phone from where it was flung during our little spat. I opt to leave my guitar on it's stand, but sling my backpack over my shoulder by one strap. I step out of the room without a backwards glance, unlocking my phone to see the newest message from Will.  
  
[Will 20:25]: Sure thing

[Will 20:26]: I'll head to the music building and meet ya'll outside

[Nico 20:31]: On my way down now. There was a bit of a disturbance of the peace.

I smirk when the ellipses start and stop a few times.

[Will 20:33]: I really am not sure how to respond to that.

I don't bother to answer, tucking my phone into my pocket, smile still on my face, before heading downstairs and off to dinner with three people steadily becoming fixtures in my daily life.

 

* * *

 

There's only four bands remaining in the competition now, and after how well it went with us closing last time, we're given the slot again. Kayla, Thalia, Jake, and I are hanging out behind the stage, relaxed and waiting for our turn to go on. It's a completely different experience than before the last show, when all of us were still uncomfortable around each other, and I flipped out at Kayla for inviting Will. Since finding out that I know her brother, and me not having to hide it anymore, coupled with whatever it is that is going on between Kayla and Thalia, the chemistry between the group has drastically changed for the better. Jake is so chill and go with the flow, that he balances us out. He's currently standing, telling a story from earlier today involving a certain mutual friend of ours setting something on fire in one of the engineering labs. Thalia is leaning against a tree, her arm thrown casually over Kayla's shoulder, both watching Jake gesture wildly, recounting the event. I'm sitting on my amp nearby, listening, but mostly enjoying just watching the interactions of the rest of the group. The three of them are all laughing by the end of the story, and fall into a comfortable silence as the chuckles die down.

Kayla looks over at me and I see that impish smile quirking the corner of her lips that I've come to know means she's up to no good. She had the same look just before ditching Will and I in the coffee shop two weeks ago, and I've seen it more often than I'd like to since then. "Nico. I need to tell you something. But you can't throw a temper tantrum again cause we go on soon." I narrow my eyes at her in a glare but she just continues, "I invited Will." She attempts to say this with a straight face, but fails miserably when Thalia bursts out laughing.

I just roll my eyes and fight a smile of my own. "As if I care that you invited your stupid brother."

Kayla and Thalia trade a look before opening their mouths to respond with gods knows what, but are stopped by Mr. Wilson walking up and telling us to get our gear ready cause the group before us is almost finished. The lights go black, and it's organized chaos as they make their way off stage, and we carry our equipment on. One of the volunteer stage hands takes my amp and goes about setting it up for me, so I turn around and grab my guitar before making my way up the stairs.

As soon as my shoes hit the stage I settle into my stage persona. Instead of being overwhelmed by the massive turn out for the show, a thrill runs down my spine and I'm excited by the crowd. I sling my guitar strap over my shoulder, bending over to grab my amp cable and connect it. I adjust the mic stand, raising it to my height before locking it back in place. Around me I hear Thalia's drum set being set up, and Jake and Kayla hooking up to their own amps and strumming a few notes. The night is cool, a light breeze caressing my face, but I know that I'll be hot once we get going. I unbutton the sleeves on my plain black button down, and cuff them up to my elbows, showing off the black tattoos that twine around my arms. I absently pick a few chords on my own guitar, adjusting the tuning slightly, waiting for everyone else to be ready.

I watch as Thalia sets the last of her cymbals in place, adjusts where her stool is, and moves her pedals. We all wanted something light and fun for our second song and quickly came to a consensus on one that we like the feel of, but if anyone asked, none of us would admit choosing it or it meaning something to us. Thalia gives the thumbs up, so I look over at Jake and nod.

With the lights still off he starts us up, a simple repeating set of notes. The lights flash on as Thalia, Kayla, and I join in several measures later. I spare a quick look over at Kayla before stepping up to the mic and turning to face the screaming crowd. They've already recognized the song from the guitar riff and drum rhythm so I meet them with a smile, playing upon the energy.

 

 _It's too late baby, there's no turning around_  
_I've got my hands in my pocket and my head in a cloud_  
_This is how I do_  
_When I think about you_  
_I never thought that you could break me apart_  
_I keep a sinister smile and a hold of my heart_  
_You want to get inside_  
_Then you can get in line_  
_But not this time_

 

I'm glad I rolled my sleeves up because by the first chorus I'm already warm from moving around, singing, and playing guitar. Sweat beads at my brow, along my hair line, slowly dripping down my spine, but I don't even give a damn because it feels so great to be performing. Adrenaline is coursing through my body, and I’m practically vibrating with the energy of it as I scan the crowd for familiar faces. I can faintly smell hot cocoa wafting up from one of the food trucks at the side of the road, and I spot Hazel standing in front of it, a styrofoam cup clutched between both hands and a soft smile on her lips. My eyes drift back to the center of the writhing mass of bodies, and I'm drawn toward curly hair, washed nearly platinum under the bright lights. I'm startled to find though, that usually sunny Will isn't smiling, he almost looks worried, eyes turned down at the corners, gazing off without seeing. My smile falters, but he must sense me studying him because his eyes snap up to meet mine.

  
_I got a closet filled up to the brim_  
_With the ghosts of my past and the skeletons_  
_And I don't know why_  
_You'd even try_  
_But I won't lie_  
_You caught me off guard_  
_Now I'm running and screaming_

 

There's a beat, and then he's smiling like he always is. My heart starts racing and it has nothing to do with the excitement of the show. I feel my mind start to go foggy the way it does when I get wrapped up staring at Will, and I have to force myself to look away, lest I lose track of what I'm supposed to be singing. I look down at my fingers, flying effortlessly across the frets. Thalia has had us practicing so frequently, I could play this in my sleep. We play seamlessly as a band, and the crowd is going wild. My gaze lands on Jason and Piper, along with Percy, Annabeth, and Leo, who I haven't seen in a while. I almost feel guilty that I've been at the university half a semester, but haven't made any effort to hang out with them. Percy sees me notice them and puts his fingers in his mouth in a whistle that splits through the noise. Leo throws two thumbs up and I grin in response. I can't see it from here, but I'll have to find him after the show and tease him about the eyebrow he singed off earlier with Jake.

 

_And I feel a weakness coming on_  
_Never felt so good to be so wrong_  
_Had my heart on lock down_  
_And then you turned me around_  
_I'm feeling like a new born child_  
_Every time I get a chance to see you smile_  
_It's not complicated_  
_I was so jaded_

 

The song fades out and the crowd goes from loud to absolutely deafening. I raise my hand in a slight wave before backing away and turning to high-five Kayla and Jake as the lights go out.

 

* * *

 

The post-show adrenaline crash I get is always rough, especially because I go into super-introvert mode. It starts as I'm packing my things up, getting ready to transport it all back to our practice room, and I can feel the groups worried looks aimed my way as I get quieter and quieter, retreating into my thoughts. I make the trek to the music building alone, not bothering to wait for them. I'm neatly, mechanically winding cables and hanging them back on the wall when they catch up, and begin putting their own equipment away. Any hope I had of sneaking off though is dashed when I see Jason walk in, carrying one of Thalia's cymbal cases.

"Ready to party, Nico?"

I look over at Jason, raising on eyebrow in question. I'm really not in the mood to play a guessing game as to what he's talking about.  
  
"Stoll's after party, remember? I told you about it on Monday?"

I throw my head back and groan, because I know I stand absolutely no chance of getting out of this. The Stoll twins went to the academy with us, and are known for throwing wild parties. Even before I transferred here, I used to drive down frequently to go with Jason and Piper. "I don't wanna," even to my own ears I sound petulant and I wrinkle my nose in disgust. I just want to find some place to hide from all the people for a while, but that doesn't appear to be in the cards tonight. The only saving grace is that there will be alcohol, which helps increase my tolerance for people for a little while at least.

"You haven't seen Percy, Annabeth, or Leo even once this semester. And you blew off the Stoll's last party by refusing to come back to the dorm so we couldn't drag you along, even after you said you'd go. There's no chance you're getting out of going tonight."  
  
I rake my fingers through my hair and sigh in defeat, before following Jason's lead as he walks out the door. The rest of the group follows behind, talking animatedly about the concert and the party to come.

 

* * *

 

There's cars lining the street and even on the Stoll's front lawn, so we end up having to park a few blocks away and walk. The thumping music can be heard and felt from a few houses down, and as we get closer, I can see that beer bottles already line the driveway and litter the grass. Their house is big by college student standards, but I also know for a fact that more people live here than rightfully should fit. Half are related to the Stoll's in some way that I don't bother to keep track of, but the other half just need a place and the twins are too nice to ever turn anyone away. With the large number of people residing there and inviting a large number of people each, the parties end up being colossal, every corner teeming with hot, sticky, bodies.

Jason and Piper make it in ahead of me, and I immediately lose them, as I have to side step a group walking out the front door as I'm trying to go in. Once over the threshold, I'm assaulted with the smell of beer and sweat, while the too loud EDM and people yelling to each other over the music causes my heart to beat uncomfortably fast for a moment, until I adjust to the cacophony of sounds. I weave my way through the entry hall, passing what would be a formal dining room in any normal house, but is currently set up with a beer pong table shoved between futons, until I'm able to step into the living room. While I did hit a late growth spurt in high school, I'm still no where near the tallest here, and have difficulty seeing over the crowd to search for Jason and Piper, or even Percy. I try and keep to the edge of the room, but a combination of trying to avoid physical contact with strangers, and being bumped into by those already tipsy or just not paying attention, I find myself being shoved towards the center of the room.

I run my fingers aggressively through my hair, finding it already slightly slick with sweat again from the oppressive heat in the house, before dropping my hand to the back of my neck. Still scanning the crowd for my friends, my eyes find an all too familiar face weaving his way through the room with ease, heading straight for me, and a defeat sigh escapes my lips.

Connor Stoll

I briefly consider if I can slip away and find some place to hide, but his blue eyes lock on mine and I know that it's a hopeless cause. He flashes me a crooked smile imbued with mischief, white teeth practically glowing under the shifting party lights of the darkened room. A year older than I, Connor is both cunning and intelligent, and has some serious gaydar. He was the only one at the academy (that I'm aware of) to figure out that I was gay. In 10th grade he picked the lock on the door to the bell tower observation deck that I had shut myself away in and waltzed in with that mischievous smile like it hadn't been locked. I had looked over my shoulder in shock, arms resting on the railing where I had been observing the grounds below. Connor had leaned his back against the railing, light brown ringlets framing his face, laughing when I asked what he was doing here. As I scowled at him, getting ready to tell him off, he had leaned in and pressed a slow kiss to my downturned lips. I had blushed furiously, springing back away from him, telling him I wasn't interested in him, and he had just winked and walked away.

Little did I know then, it would turn into some sort of weird ritual for him. The process was repeated at school numerous times, and every single one of these damn house parties, he finds me sooner or later, and presses a kiss to my lips. Sometimes a quick peck, sometimes slow and sweet like that first one, and sometimes hot, heavy, and slightly drunken. After, I tell him I'm not interested in him, he laughs, a twinkle in his upturned eyes, and walks away with a wink.

He makes his way up to me, and presses a bottle of cold beer into my hand. I take it, eyes still locked on his and raise a single eyebrow. "Seeking me out a little early tonight, Stoll," before taking a swig from the bottle.

Even over the music, I can hear his laugh, and it sends a chill down my spine. It's the kind of sound that is both beautifully musical but sets off an alarm of warning. Like a siren's song. If I had been attracted to Connor, it would have me enthralled, but as it stands I'm able to enjoy the sound with trepidation.

"I can feel it the moment my beautiful boy sets foot in my abode. I would have been here faster if I hadn't detoured to find you a drink. I know you could use one with all these people here." His smile softens a bit, from the crooked grin to something more endearing, and I almost feel bad. Almost. But I know I've never once given Connor any reason to hope that there could be something between us, so his insistence on chasing after me is all on him. Although, I don't think he's even serious about it anymore. At some point over the years it shifted from trying to win me over, to something more playful and amusing. A game between friends, rather than a dance between would-be lovers.

Nonetheless, I roll my eyes at his dramatic lie of knowing when I'm around. "Have you seen Jason? I lost him the moment I set foot in this hostel you call a home."

The impish sparkle is back in his blue eyes, immediately chasing away any lingering feelings of guilt I may have had. "Tell you for a kiss."

I glare up at the taller boy, even though I know it never has any effect on him. "We both know you're going to kiss me anyway, so let's get your weird ritual over with, and tell me where Jason is."

He chuckles before stepping into my personal space. The hand not holding his beer slips behind the back of my head, angling my face up towards his. When his lips meet mine, its familiar. Comfortable. I let him kiss me for a few moments, leaning in with slight reciprocation, before putting hand on his chest and pushing him away. Per usual, as if by some unspoken agreement, he gives me a crooked grin and a wink.

"Jason and Percy are in the kitchen. I told them to wait there and that I'd find you."

I punch him in the shoulder, but he just laughs and scampers off, weaving his way effortlessly through the crowd, like an elf through a forest of crowded trees. I roll my eyes one more time at his retreating back, before turning towards the direction of the kitchen. My eye catches on blonde wavy hair, but the person is gone before I can get a look at them. I mentally scold myself for getting hung up anytime I see anything that could be even close to Will's aesthetic, and then start to shove my way through mass of hot, drunken bodies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Hero/Heroine by Boys Like Girls
> 
> Nico and Kayla banter gives me life.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoah, 100 kudos and 2k hits! Thanks everyone!!
> 
> Since last week got such a positive response to the longer chapter, I decided to take a little longer getting this chapter out and make it another lengthy one. Hope you like it (:

_Will_

 

Kayla text me after she got off stage to meet her at the music building so that she and Thalia could put their equipment away before we head to the Stoll's house party. As I’m walking up, I watch Nico follow Jason out of the building. His head is down, sulking like a scolded child, so I decide not to say anything to him. Kayla and Thalia emerge seconds later, and we make our way to Kayla's Jeep. I climb in the back, smiling and nodding along to the girls' conversation as needed.

The party is already going full force when we make it there, every corner of the house crowded with people. Scores of bodies pressed up against walls making out, grinding against each other on the living room dance floor, circled around a keg in the kitchen, and wandering the backyard that’s illuminated by fairy lights. I'm about to pluck a red solo cup for the keg, when Travis Stoll grabs me by the arm and shows me where the good beer is hidden. I give him a high-five as a thank you and he's immediately off again, talking to guests and getting into whatever trouble it is Travis gets into. Working in the infirmary at the academy I saw more than my fair share of both twins for pranks gone wrong, and other students for pranks gone right...

I notice I've lost both girls at some point, but am not too bothered. I turn to leave the kitchen just as Jason and Percy Jackson are coming in. Greeting them both, I shuffle awkwardly from foot to foot trying to inconspicuously peer behind them. Jason must sense that I'm disappointed Nico isn't with them because he makes the offhanded comment about having lost him getting into the house. I nod and casually say I'll tell him where they are if I run into him, before slipping out into the living room.

Upon entering the living room, the already too loud music becomes nearly unbearable, and the temperature is significantly higher than in the kitchen, where the patio door had been open letting in the cool fall breeze. In here though, the combination of elevated temperature and moisture from sweating bodies has the air weighing down on your skin oppressively, like a wet blanket dragging you under. I can't imagine Nico being comfortable in this room, but having not seen him in the kitchen or beer pong room, I linger, scanning the teeming pool of bodies on the dance floor for a familiar pair of dark eyes and hair.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see someone pulling at their hair, a habit I know that Nico does frequently, and sure enough the boy is standing near the center of the room alone. I take a few steps in his direction but stop abruptly when I see someone else walking up to him. It isn't until the stranger gets up to Nico that I recognize him as Travis's twin, Connor. He hands Nico a bottle of beer with a smile, presumably from the same hidden stash of not-shitty-keg-beer that Travis showed me just a few minutes prior.

Of course the two went to school together, so I shouldn't be surprised they know one another, but I'm caught off guard by how familiar they seem to be. Below my ribs, my stomach gives a slight twinge of jealousy seeing Nico conversing with someone without his customary scowl on his face, although I do feel a little better seeing his eyes roll, even from across the crowded room.

My relief is short lived though, and I feel as if the whole world freezes, leaving me trapped as Connor steps close to Nico, cupping his head gently, and...

_No...no...no..._

I want to run away but my feet are rooted to the spot, my brain refusing to send the signal to tear my eyes away. Connor kisses Nico. He's kissing him. The way that I want to be; softly, unabashedly, in the center of a crowded room, heedless of the rest of the world around them. Nico's hand comes up to rest on Connor's chest, but then pushes him away, and it's as if their kiss ending restarts the space time continuum. Suddenly the noise, the heat, the smell of bodies, crashes down on me and I'm drawing in a shuddering breath. I'm about to turn and flee, the room, the party, the country maybe... but before I can take a single step, someone’s arm is linked through mine, and they reach up, tapping a finger under my chin.

"You may want to close that. You'll catch flies."

I jump in shock, snapping my mouth shut, eyes wide as I twist to see who is next to me. I find myself staring into kaleidoscope eyes, and allow the breath I gasped in to leave my lungs in a whoosh. "H-hey, Piper. I was j-just about to leave, actually. The party."

"Ohhh no you don't. But how about we step outside, hmm? I could use some fresh air."

I spare one last glance in Nico's direction to see Connor walking away, before allowing myself to be guided toward the back door, Piper's arm still linked through mine. It's loose enough to seem friendly to onlookers, but I can feel her determination to not let me slip away.

Stepping outside, a shiver ripples through me at the sudden change in temperature, from the overly warm house, to brisk October night. Half a dozen people are on the deck, gathered around a fire pit, relaxed and engaging in an animated discussion. Their laughter mingles in the air with the smell of roasted marshmallows. It would be enjoyable, and I would probably ask to join them, if my mind weren't racing a hundred miles an hour down a dead end road.

Piper leads us down the stairs of the deck and across the grassy lawn, to a bench tucked under a large tree, lights strung on its branches. She releases my arm and takes a seat, patting the spot next to her to indicate that I should do the same. I don't see much of a choice, and don't really have the energy to fight her on this anyway, so I drop down beside her. Leaning forward, I rest my elbows on my knees and bury my face in my hands.

"Talk to me."

I turn my head slightly to look at her out of the corner of my eye. "About what?"

"Well, why were you just about to flee the party?"

"O-oh. I'm just tired."

She snorts, seeing straight through my feeble lie. "Okay, let's talk about something else then. What were you looking at that had your jaw on the floor?"

I turn my head to look her more fully in the face, head leaning onto my fist. I can tell that she's giving me an out, in a way, and weigh my response. I take a slow breath through my nose to steady my breath and aim for casual observance, "I didn't realize Nico was dating Connor. Just surprised I guess."

A sharp bark of laughter cuts through the air and I see mirth dancing in her eyes as she presses a hand to her lips to cut off the sound. "Oh, he's DEFINITELY not dating Connor."

My eyebrows draw together in confusion, "oh. He _is_ straight then? That's why he pushed Connor away?"

Before I even finish the sentence she's shaking her head. "Oh no, Nico is HELLA gay. He's just not dating Connor." Reaching up to play with the thin braid at the side of her head, she appears to be considering something, so I wait for her to continue. After a beat, she explains, "Connor was Nico's first kiss, catching him completely off guard, and Nico responded by flat out saying he wasn't interested. Connor turned it into some twisted game to get back at Nico, where he walks up and kisses him randomly when he sees him. There's nothing behind it but a joke, at this point. Connor enjoys antagonizing Nico, and Nico just gets exasperated with him and moves on."

My head is spinning, and I have to focus on keeping my breathing and face neutral as I process all of this information. In the space of 15 minutes I've gone from my world collapsing, to finding out Nico is gay, and the kiss meant nothing. I don't trust my voice, but manage a hum of acknowledgment, nodding my head at her response.

I'm sure there's no way I can pull this off casually, but my chest is burning with the need to ask. I lift my head from my fist, just to look down and play with my hands, unable to meet her gaze now. "Uhhh.. you're sure he's gay?"

At that moment I hear soft footsteps approaching and Piper redirects the question. "Hey Hazel, what's your brother's sexuality?"

My head snaps up and despite the cool night my face is absolutely burning. Of all people in the world, _of course_ it's Nico's sister. Hazel doesn't appear even remotely fazed by the question though, turning to me "oh, he's hella gay."

"Why are you looking at me?"

"Well Piper knows, so I'm assuming it was actually you asking. Was it not?"

I duck my head again, mumbling an affirmative, and get a warm chuckle in response.

"Connor kissed Nico again," Piper offers by way of explanation.

"Ooooooh." I catch Hazel's gaze flicking over to me out of my periphery and refuse to consider what that means. There's a brief, uncomfortable silence before she delicately clears her throat. "Jason was wondering where you had snuck off to, Piper. He was trying to talk Percy out of something stupid and was failing dismally. I'm guessing he desperately needs your persuasive charm to rein him in."

Piper just sighs and rises from the bench, turning to appraise me with her hands on her hips. "Coming?"

"I think I'll head home, actually." Her face is one of concern, so I rush to add, "I really am rather tired."

"Didn't you ride over with Kayla?"

"Yeah, but it's not far to the dorms. I'll just shoot her a text and let her know I'm leaving. It's a nice night and I could use the walk."

Both girls look slightly worried still, but Hazel defers to Piper, and Piper nods slowly. She turns and leads the way back up the lawn to the house. I quickly down the rest of my beer, dropping it in a bin of empty bottles once we enter the kitchen. I slow and fall back a ways from the girls as they approach their group, quickly jumping into an animated conversation. Percy's arms are waving about excitedly, Jason appears to be lecturing him, and Annabeth looks completely unimpressed by her boyfriend. Nico is leaning against the wall nearby observing, one eyebrow slightly raised, whether in amusement or annoyance, I'm not sure.

I try to sneak out the kitchen door undetected, but hear someone call out my name. I hesitate only momentarily, before pressing forward, determined to pretend I didn't hear them over the din of the party. I hurriedly push my way to the front hall and out of the house, back into the fresh air. I pause to take a deep breath, before starting down the driveway, pulling my phone out as I go. I punch out a quick message to Kayla as I turn down the sidewalk and make my way home.

It’s still relatively early for a Friday night, so I’m not surprised to find Cecil and Lou Ellen awake when I get back to the dorm. They’re stretched out on their stomachs on the floor, pillows and blankets strewn about, engaged in a fierce round of Mario Kart. Between the string of expletives from Cecil, and a hard shove to his shoulder from Lou Ellen, I take this as my cue to mess with both of them by lying across both their backs.

Lou grunts, “ugh, damnit Will, how much do you weigh?”

At the last second, Lou noses ahead of Cecil, snagging first place. Cecil drops his head to the ground groaning, while Lou cheers loudly, wiggling around underneath my back.

Cecil cranes his neck over his shoulder, trying to get a look at me, “I thought you said you were heading to that house party?”

“I went.”

“But, you couldn’t have been there even an hour? What’s up?”

“Oh, I just was tired,” I answer noncommittally. Lou Ellen tugs at my arm and pokes my side until I shift so that I’m lying between them now, on my back, staring up at the ceiling. She pushes up on her elbows looking down at me, lips turning down in a slight frown.

“Will, what’s been going on? You’ve been out of sorts for at least a week.”

I’m quiet for a moment, considering how to tell her everything that’s happened, not only tonight, but since the last concert, really. “Do you remember Kayla’s last concert?”

“Yeah, you were super weird then, too,” Cecil volunteers, completely unhelpfully.

I roll my eyes but continue, “do you… er… remember the singer for her band..?”

“No-“ Cecil begins to answer, but is cut off by Lou Ellen.

“The super-hot one?”

I flush at her observation, but there’s not really any point in denying the point. “Yeah… do you remember when you asked me about my sexuality…?”

“No way.”

“Yeah…”

“Oh my gods he goes here?!”

“Apparently he just transferred here this semester…”

“And that’s when you found out?”

“Yeah.”

“Is that why you’ve been weird?”

“Well, yes, but there’s more.” I take a deep breath and decide that I’ll feel better if I just dump everything that’s happened. Get it off my chest. I’ve always felt better if I talk to my family or friends about something, and this whole thing with Nico has become more than I can handle on my own. “So, that’s him. And you knew he was missing that night after the show, but we found him and it was all fine. We all ended up out to dinner, and walked back to the dorms after, and he kinda… gave me his number cause I said I wanted to be friends. We’ve hung out a few times since then with Kayla and Thalia, and whatever. But then there was a night Kayla was supposed to be meeting me for dinner but she didn’t show up and didn’t answer her phone so I was searching for her and ended up going to their practice room. She wasn’t there, but he was in there… and he was writing a song, and I might have kinda, sorta, sat in the hallway and listened, and… it was a love song? So… that’s why I was weird this week… and then tonight at the party I saw a guy walk up and kiss him and, okay, I might have freaked out. But his friend grabbed me before I could run off and told me the guy is a friend who does that to mess with him. But he is gay. So. I, uhm. Now I’m freaking out cause someone kissed him, but now I know he’s gay and I have a chance, but he wrote that song and I’m guessing likes someone even if it’s not the guy who kissed him… and… yeah.”

I suck in a shuddering breath, realizing I’ve been rambling and speaking way too fast in my rush to get all of the words out. Now that they’re out, floating in the air between us, I feel lighter without them weighing me down, but also strangely empty.

Lou Ellen rolls lays down and throws her arm over me in a hug. Cecil follows her lead, making me a Will sandwich. It’s comforting being held by my two best friends.

Lou is the first one to break the silence, her voice soft, “what’s his name?”

“Nico.” My voice is thick with emotion, and the one word holds so much weight that it’s heavy on my tongue. I clear my throat lightly, needing to say it again. “His name’s Nico.”

* * *

 All three of us must have fallen asleep at some point, because I wake up the next morning, still on the floor wedged between Cecil and Lou Ellen. Prying Lou’s arm off me, I quietly get up and find clean clothes, before taking a quick shower. A coffee run seems in order, and by the time I get back, carrying a tray with a drink for each of us, the other two are awake. They’re sitting cross legged on top of the nest of blankets and pillows, deep in conversation when I walk through the door. Lou jumps up and grabs the tray, quickly discerning which is hers. I see her throat move as she takes a deep gulp, humming in appreciation of the liquid energy, before bothering to pass Cecil his.

Now that she has the warm drink clutched between her hands, she wastes no time diving into, what I can only assume, is something I’m going to be vehemently against, if her previous schemes are anything to go by. “So there’s something I was going to talk to you about.”

I make eye contact with her over the lid of my cup as I take a sip, savoring the sweet drink as it washes over my tongue. A quick glance over at Cecil tells me that he is decidedly against this idea, but has gotten no where on dissuading her, which does nothing to reassure me.

Seeing that I’m not going to respond, she presses on, “I may have set you up with a date for Wednesday night.”

I’m mid-swallow when she drops this bomb on me, causing me to choke. I end up with most of it down the wrong pipe, coughing and lungs burning, Cecil rushing to slap my back. When I finally manage to clear my airways again, I swipe at my watering eyes with my sleeve before leveling an, admittedly weak, glare at the girl. “Cancel it,” I manage, voice still weak from my near coffee induced drowning.

She presses on as if I didn’t say anything at all, “He’s a Bio major, so I have a bunch of classes with him. He was complaining the other day about how hard it is to find guys on campus who weren’t either A. hipster art types or B. smart but complete douchebags.”

“Not happening.”

“Come on Will, he’s smart, plays soccer, and perfect for taking your mind of Nico.”

“I don’t want to take my mind off Nico.”

“Yeah, and that’s why you’re going to go on this date.”

I open my mouth to continue arguing, but she cuts me off before I can get a word out.

“I’m not saying you have to forget about him or anything, just go on a date. You can consider it practice for him for all I care. Just go, and if you hate him you can just say it didn’t work out. Besides, I already told him to meet you at your favorite coffee shop, and you don’t want me to have to break his heart cancelling now do you?”

All I can do is let out a defeated sigh, knowing that she played me like a fiddle. There’s no way I would intentionally hurt someone’s feelings, and she knows that all too well. Resigned to my fate, I catch the look of pity on Cecil’s face, but say nothing.

* * *

Monday I get an ecstatic message in our group chat from Kayla, updating me that her and Nico’s band made the cut, and are officially one of two remaining bands in their competition. Between them buckling down for the final concert next week, and my own classes loading on work for the fast approaching midterms, I hardly see either of them. If I’m not in class or working at the health center, I’m in the library until closing time.

By the time Wednesday rolls around, I’m supremely annoyed with Lou Ellen for forcing me into this, not only when I don’t want to meet the damn guy, but also at such a jam packed time of the semester. Luckily my shift at the health center is so busy, that I don’t have a chance to panic about the fast approaching nightmare that is this blind date. When I get home Lou Ellen is there ushering me into a fast shower and an outfit she picked out, then shoving me out the door. (When I tell her she’s overbearing, she informs me this was the only way she could be sure I actually went and something about it being for my own good.)

The walk would be enjoyable, if not for the nerves slowly coiling in my stomach. When my phone vibrates in my pocket, I find myself half hoping that it’s Lou telling me the guy cancelled, but no such luck. As if I weren’t already unhappy to be going on this damn date, it’s a message from Nico, asking if I want to join him and Kayla for dinner. There have been plenty of times where Nico or I have turned down an invite somewhere because we’re busy, so it really shouldn’t make me feel as bad as it does. I think it must be the circumstance.

I quickly punch out an explanation that Lou Ellen cornered me into a blind date, so I’ll have to pass for the evening. After a beat, Kayla wishes me good luck and I allow myself a small smile. Nico doesn’t answer, and I have to force myself not to read too much into it. Maybe since he and Kayla are together he assumed her answer sufficed for both of them? And maybe I’m being too negative about this, after all, it’s not this guy’s fault that I’m hopelessly crushing on my friend or that Lou forced me into the date. Resolving to not take my frustration out on some poor dude, I pocket my phone and continue my walk, chin held high.

I get to the coffee shop, and a quick glance around tells me he’s not here yet. Not surprising, since I’m early. I choose a table near the window with clear sight of the door, so that I can watch for him to arrive. Shrugging my coat from my shoulders, I drape it over the back of my chair, before unwinding my scarf. The usually comforting atmosphere of the familiar shop does little to calm my nerves now as sit down gingerly on the edge of the seat. My body seems unable to remain still, knee bouncing and fingers playing with the hem of my sweater. My eyes dart toward the door nervously every few seconds. I catch Sofia watching me and give her a hesitant smile, the most I can muster right now. Tapping the home button on my phone, I light up the clock to check the time again. Hmm, 5 past 6. Guess he’s running late…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't kill me for the angst :P 
> 
> (I promise next chapter is way better for our poor Will.)


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor violence and mention of blood.

  _Nico_

 

Across the table from me, Kayla sighs, causing me to drag my eyes up from my plate of food to look at her questioningly.

"Now I'm going to have to reset the 'days since Nico was broody' count. Thanks a lot." 

I scowl at her, "You don't have a counter for that." As an afterthought I add, "and I'm not broody."

Her freckled nose scrunches up in displeasure at my response. "Actually, I do. Thalia and I have a whiteboard in my room that we update. We were at a record 12 days, and now you just blew it. What's up Nico?"

Without breaking my scowl I shove the last bite of food in my mouth to avoid answering. Kayla waits patiently as I search for a response, swallowing slowly to buy more time. "Just worried about midterms." It's not a total lie, I am stressed about them. Just not at this very second.

I can practically see the wheels turning as she tries to decide whether to buy it or not. I'm not sure whether she believes me or just doesn't feel like arguing, but either way, she gives a small nod of acknowledgement. I watch as she dunks a fry in ranch, which I still find disgusting, no matter how many times I eat out with her. "Do you have a lot of tests?"

I reach up to run my fingers through my hair, but remember the greasy food, and think better of it. "Theory has a test, history of jazz has both a paper and a test, then there's the concert, plus a portfolio check for my writing class..." I drop my head to the table, voice trailing off.

Hearing (reading?) that Will had a date had occupied my thoughts so completely that I had finally stopped stressing about midterms for a little while, but now that I've brought the topic up, I'm back to freaking out. There's so much to do that I've hardly slept in the past week. Even then I've been more likely to pass out on the floor of the practice room, head pillowed on my backpack, than actually to go back to my room. I'm not sure when the last time I spent a full night in my bed was.

Unfortunately, the midterm panic doesn't overrule the Will panic, so now I'm just doubly a mess. 

"I didn't take you for the type who would freak out about midterms." 

"Don't tell anyone." My words come out muffled, face still buried in my arms on the table. Sighing, I lift my head and glance around the room. It's dimly lit, soft evening sun filtering through the dusty windows set high in red brick walls. Dark wood, worn smooth from years of use, is soft under my tapping fingers as I study the clumps of students tucked into dozens of booths. The noise created is like the ocean crashing on a shore; rising then receding, just for another wave to take its place. I'm about to get up and throw out my trash when one voice rises above the rest, catching my attention. 

"Yeah, I was supposed to, but I found the guy on Facebook and he's a total fuckin' nerd." 

I freeze, straining to listen, but fail to catch the response. Whoever the guy is talking too isn't obnoxiously loud like he is. 

"Nah I haven't met him before. This chick, Lou Ellen or something, in my class set us up. She's kinda scary but I'd rather deal with her than be seen with a dweeb like him."

As soon as I hear Lou's name I whip around, scanning the booths, trying hone in on where the voice is coming from.

"Nico what are you-"

I hold up a hand, cutting Kayla off so that I can focus on locating this fucking douchebag. I hear the guy laugh and my eyes snap to a booth on the other side of the wide aisle. He's sitting on the edge of the bench facing my direction, with a guy sitting next to him and presumably more on the other side I can't see. He's wearing a long sleeve shirt with white Greek letters on the front. The shirt is faded, but not like it’s a favorite shirt that’s been washed too many times; more like he paid to have it look that way, to achieve a certain aesthetic, to make the shirt look well loved when it’s actually probably brand new. It’s like those people who buy ripped jeans and then get upset when the perfectly arranged tears and thinned fabric actually gets torn? It’s never made sense to me, and for some reason seeing this asshat wearing a not-actually-worn-out shirt grates on my nerves.

The conversation has shifted to talking about a post-midterms party at their frat house next weekend and general banter. I mentally cringe at a derogatory term that slips from one the other guys at the table. I don’t know much about the greek system, and have absolutely zero interest in learning about it, but I look back at the guy’s shirt and recognize the combination of symbols now that I actually know what to look for, having seen them in the newspaper last month. A group of guys from the fraternity were caught on video, drunk after a football game, singing a song they made up, which included racial slurs. There was an uproar from students and the community when the video spread like wildfire on social media, calling for the fraternity to be kicked off campus. Unfortunately, since it wasn’t at their house or anything organized by the fraternity itself, the school could only punish the individuals themselves, and not the corrupt organization itself. The guys got suspended and forced to take some cultural sensitivity course before they could return, but honestly that wasn’t even enough in my opinion.

The fact that this guy is from that disgusting group just adds to my already boiling rage of him blowing off Will. Old wooden floor creaks a bit as I get to my feet, crossing the room in efficient, measured strides. My body is wound tight, muscles aching, practically jumping to release my frustration. I grind my teeth down in an effort to regain some ounce of control and composure as I stop next to their table. Four faces turn to stare at me in surprise, but my eyes are locked on one in particular.

He raises an eyebrow and cockily smirks at me, “need somethin’ bud?”

“Oh, no, just giving you one last chance to get to where you’re supposed to be.” I wave a hand nonchalantly, relaxing my body to give off an ease I don’t mentally feel.

“And where is that?” He questions, still smirking at me. 

“A date with a certain blonde gentleman, which you are now exceedingly late for.” 

Climbing to his feet, he crowds into my personal space, undoubtedly trying to intimidate me with the few inches he has over me in height. He’s skinny, but his chest is broad and skin artificially tanned. I’m sure that the long sleeves of his shirt are hiding muscle from hours in the gym. Although, if I had to guess, a good percentage of that time was probably spent taking selfies showing he was at the gym, rather than actually doing anything.

I look up into murky green-brown eyes, refusing to step back. His smirk turns into an ugly grin, “and what are you going to do about it?”

A lethally wicked grin splits across my own face in response, “I’m so glad you asked.” I expertly shift my weight, and before he has time to react, my fist is connecting with his jaw. The force of the hit sends him staggering backwards into the wall of the booth with a thud, before losing his balance and falling over. His buddies stare in shock, frozen in place with jaws dropped as I stalk over and grab him by the front of his stupid shirt, dragging him half up off the ground.

Gripping his shirt in my fists, my face is inches from his. “This is what’s going to happen,” I growl. “You and I are going to walk over to that coffee shop. You are going to apologize for standing him up. Then you are going to stay the fuck away from him, because he deserves so much better than your sorry, pathetic ass.”

His eyes are wide and he nods frantically in pathetic agreement, all bravado gone. He stumbles to his feet and I grab a hold of his arm, hauling him behind me as I march us out of the room. The normally short walk to the coffee shop is made even shorter by my pissed off power walking speed and not even half dragging this dude can slow me down. Adrenaline and fury are still coursing through my blood, but the satisfaction of punching him has perhaps dimmed the red from my vision smidge.

I yank open the shop door and storm in, my heart leaping painfully in my chest when I see Will. His shoulders, normally confidently squared, are hunched as he idly spins a pen on the table’s surface in front of him. The embers of my anger with the grade-A-asshole reignite into a burning fire, as I shove him forward in front of me. While he remained smartly silent on the walk over here, he lets out a small yelp as he stumbles. I growl deep in my chest a warning in response, and he quickly straightens, snapping his mouth shut. Will’s eyes lift up and widen in shock, flicking back and forth between myself and the guy. I don’t look at Will… yet. When no apology is immediately forthcoming, I clear my throat, eyes fixed on hair that is entirely too styled and grossly filled with product.

He stutters through some sorry excuse and apology to Will that I hardly hear, my ears ringing from fury. He turns and looks at me, eyes still wide with fear, in silent question. I nod and watch as he turns and flees, before finally looking at Will. He’s been strangely quiet through the entire episode, and it’s unnerving. He’s usually so bubbly and happy; I’m not a fan of sad Will.

I shouldn’t think that. I’m a fan of every Will, and will gladly stand beside every version of him. But that doesn’t mean I won’t do everything in my power to prevent someone from hurting him like this. The hunched posture and sad eyes when we walked in remind me too much of a kicked puppy. His eyes are roaming over my face, expression guarded. I sigh, raking my fingers through my hair, feeling the anger and adrenaline slowly melting away.

“I have no idea what Lou Ellen was thinking with that asshole. Wait right here, Sunshine.”

I don’t give him a chance to respond, turning quickly and walking up to the counter where Sofia has been standing, watching the entire scene unfold. I manage a small smile for her before requesting a large pumpkin spice latte for Will and cappuccino for myself, opting to wait there for her to make them. I lean my forearms on the counter, closing my eyes and listening to the clicks and clacks of the espresso machine; the whooshing of steaming milk foaming. I count in my head, breathing in slowly through my nose, counting again as I release it. My pounding heart begins to calm, the warm scent of coffee mixing with a more subtle, sweet note of pumpkin, helping to ease the last of the fight instinct from my body.

The high tinkle of porcelain being set down draws me back, eyes fluttering open. Quietly thanking Sofia, I lift each cup by the saucer, walking slowly back to the table and setting Will’s down gently in front of him, before taking the seat across from him. 

“Hey.” My voice is soft, hardly more than a whisper. He looks up, eyes meeting mine, and I’m momentarily drowning in blue. My heart rate starts to pick up again, but for a completely different reason this time. “You okay?” 

A slow smile tugs gently at his lips, and if I didn’t know better, I would almost think it was tender. “Yeah.” His voice matches mine, if perhaps slightly more hesitant. “Thanks… for that. You didn’t need to…” 

His voice trails off and I just smile, “yeah. Yeah, I did.” I think for a moment, everything starting to catch up to me now that I’m not in a rage induced haze. “Although, I should probably text Kayla… You know. Apologize for storming off, and I think I left my backpack with her.”

The low chuckle that shakes Will’s chest makes me warm, and my smile grows. This is more like him. I send Kayla a quick message and am satisfied when she promises to bring my backpack by in a little bit. While I’m messaging her, Will takes a sip of his drink and hums contently. “I didn’t take you for a pumpkin spice person?”

Looking up from my phone, I’m relieved to see his head cocked to the side and an easy, teasing smile on his face, showing off bright white teeth. He leans back in his seat, shoulders back and relaxed. I notice for the first time that he’s wearing a sinfully tight, light cotton sweater in almost the exact shade of his drink. The deep, rusty orange making his freckles even more noticeable and setting off his hair like pale gold. It’s with great effort that I drag my eyes away from his chest and back up to his gaze, “oh, I’m not. But I assumed you are. I’m much too sophisticated for that,” I banter playfully, taking a sip of my cappuccino to hide the light blush I feel creeping across my cheeks.

Will just rolls his eyes, the smile not leaving his face, “whatever you say, Death Boy.”

“Really though, are you alright?” I keep my voice light, not wanting to ruin the relaxed atmosphere, but needing to make sure that he’s okay.

He takes another sip, eyes slipping shut. As he pulls the cup away, my own drift down to his lips as his tongue darts out to swipe across them, licking up stray droplets. My own lips part, and in my distraction, I fail to notice him watching me until he answers my question, snapping me back to the present.

“Yeah. I didn’t even want to meet him in the first place, but Lou Ellen sort of forced me into it. So… it really wasn’t that big of a deal. Just kind of… depressing knowing someone doesn’t think you’re worth it, even though I wasn’t invested in it at all?”

My fierce defensiveness of Will flares up again momentarily as I heatedly reply, “he wasn’t deserving of your time. Don’t let his actions impact your self worth.”

Will’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise and I quickly look away. It’s quiet for a moment, before Will delicately clears his throat and changes the subject. We talk about the upcoming concert, midterms, and anything else that comes to mind. The adrenaline crash has me both feeling drowsy and acutely aware of the throbbing pain in my hand. I’m careful to keep it tucked under the table. I haven’t look at it, so as not to draw Will’s attention, but judging by the pain, I’m sure it can’t be pretty. Time flows easily and at some point Kayla drops off my backpack, but doesn’t stick around. When Will’s phone buzzes, we’re both shocked to see that several hours have passed, which seems to be a recurring theme when we hang out. 

He unlocks his phone, and for the third time this evening, I see his expression shift to one of surprise. “Err… I think this might be for you…” He awkwardly pushes his phone across the table to me, eyeing me with an expression I can’t quite interpret. Looking down at the phone, I see it’s open to a message from Lou Ellen.

 

[Lou Ellen 20:51]: So, I’m sitting here, waiting for your lovely date to show up so I can badger him for details before class starts, and imagine my surprise when he walks in with a nasty bruise spreading up his face, refusing to make eye contact with me. Would you care to tell me what the fuck happened?

 

I can’t help the devilish grin I get picturing the swirling purple and black monstrosity that must be gracing the left side of his face as I open up Lou Ellen’s contact info to get her phone number. I enter it into my own phone, before sliding Will’s back to him.

 

[Nico 20:52]: Hey Lou Ellen, this is Nico. That would be my handiwork you’re looking at. I found the asshat in question boasting loudly in the student union about standing up a “total fuckin’ nerd” because he “couldn’t stand to be seen with the dweeb” and kindly escorted him to his scheduled date to apologize and promise to stay the fuck away from Will. Perhaps next time you set Will up on a date, find someone with even a pinch of class, so that I don’t have to ever see him looking this hurt again. Thanks!

 

When I look up, Will is watching me warily. “What did you just do…”

“Oh, just responded to the message.”

“You couldn’t do that from my phone?”

“Nah, wanted her to have my number in case she has follow up questions.”

“Speaking of questions-”

“I said if SHE had questions.”

“-why DOES he have a bruise on his face?” His eyes dart down to my hand where it’s now resting on the table. I can’t help but look down also, flinching as he sucks in a quick gasp. The first two knuckles are split, but already scabbing over. However, it looks much worse than it is because they’re smeared in dried blood. I can only assume the rest of the smear is on the guys shirt. Beneath the crimson staining the skin, I can see bruises that would put an eggplant to shame feathering out across my light complexion.

Reaching out, he lifts my hand gingerly in his own to examine it. My eyes flutter shut, as wave upon wave of memory crashes over me, remembering years of him taking care of me, examining wounds, and patching me up again and again. A weight settles on me along with a deep, aching yearning that I try and fail to stifle.

“Come on. We’re going back to my dorm right this second so I can clean that up.”

Opening my eyes, I see that his are blazing, and I give him a sheepish grin. There isn’t any point in fighting him on the matter, and truthfully, I’m secretly happy to have him taking care of me like old times. I find myself being tugged by my good hand and having rhetorical arguments with myself in my head, eyes trained on where his hand is grasping mine, leading the way.

 _I’d follow you anywhere_.

_Stop it. That’s fucking sappy. This is why you’ve never dated anyone._

_Yeah, and it’s also why I’ll continue to not date anyone, cause they aren’t Will Solace._

_Get it the fuck together di Angelo._

As soon as we’re in his dorm, he grabs me by the shoulders and forcibly sits me down on his bed, before burying his head in an armoire and rummaging through his things. He quickly finds what he’s looking for though, and drops a large first aid kit on the bed next to me. As he heads to the bathroom and washes his hands, I opt to scoot further onto the bed and lean my back against the wall, resigning myself to being fussed over for, what I can only assume will be, the remainder of the evening. Will returns, settling himself on the bed next to me and gently lifting my hand to inspect it closer. I let my head fall back against the wall and eyes slip shut, listening to Will’s steady breathing. He begins to hum softly while searching through his kit and the sound is somehow relaxing, despite the nervous energy buzzing through my veins at the fact that I’m sitting on Will’s bed. Alone in his room.

Any forthcoming images on that topic are wiped from my brain as a cold liquid hits my skin, sending a burning sensation shooting down my fingertips. A startled hiss escapes my lips and I briefly screw my eyes shut tighter, before relaxing again as the cursed sterilization fluid is replaced by Will’s breath, blowing gently to remove the sting. It’s at that opportune moment, that the door is thrown open, banging against the wall, and two startled individuals come to an abrupt stop in the doorway staring at us.

Trying to keep my cool, I cock an eyebrow at them, before really noticing that one is a girl, whom I can only assume is Lou Ellen. My expression transforms into a scowl, refusing to break eye contact with her, as my earlier annoyance returns. She at least as the decency to look sheepish as she and the boy step further into the room, closing the door behind them with a click. Lou shuffles a bit from foot to foot in front of us, before giving me a hesitant smile.

“Shoulda hit him harder, di Angelo… and thanks for doing that.”

My expression softens as I hear the genuine feelings of regret and guilt behind her words. This is someone who cares deeply about Will, and is probably just as upset about the outcome as I am. I give in to a small smile and am about to tell her no problem when Will recovers from his own surprise at their entrance.

“Do _not_ encourage him Lou Lou,” he tells her, voice tinged with exasperation, before returning to cleaning my hand.

I glance at Will out of the corner of my eye, before really smiling at the girl. “How spectacular was the bruise?”

Relief flashes across her face, before being replaced by a blinding smile of her own. “Oh man, it’s absolutely incredible, and I’ll bet it’ll be even better tomorrow.”

Our conversation is briefly interrupted by Will instructing me to move my fingers to make sure nothing is broken or dislocated. Once he’s satisfied, he goes about bandaging it with gauze, long fingers deft and sure on my own. I return my attention to Lou Ellen, relaxing under Will’s touch, not pulling away even after I know he’s finished.

Throughout our exchange, Will and Cecil have both been strangely quiet. Looking away from Lou Ellen, I see the two boys engaged in a silent battle of wills. Cecil has a mischievous grin that eerily reminds me of the Stoll twins, while Will looks slightly terrified.

“Whatever it is you’re considering, Cecil, I want you to stop and think before you-” Will doesn’t even get the entire threat out before Cecil casually interrupts him.

“You were right, Will. He _is_ beautiful.”

Frankly, I’m surprised my jaw doesn’t hit the floor when it drops. I resolutely refuse to look over at Will, and instead watch Cecil’s retreating back, hands shoved in his pockets, whistling happily as he walks over and shuts himself in the bathroom. Lou Ellen looks like she’s trying not to laugh, but could fail at any second, and I’m fairly certain my entire body is some shade of scarlet. Swallowing hard, I steal a glance out of the corner of my eye and am concerned to find that if I’m overly flushed, Will has had the exact opposite reaction. All the blood appears to have drained from his face, leaving him ashen and frozen. Seeing him so afraid makes my own shock and fear easier to handle, and my immediate response is to soothe him.

He flinches when I gently pull my hand from where it was still sitting in his grasp, and I can tell he expects me to pull away entirely. Blame it on the adrenaline crash or post-fight endorphins, but instead of moving away, I reach up and softly brush the curls that have tumbled forward while he worked, away out of his eyes and whisper low under my breath, “I think he mistook me for you.”

I take advantage of his eyes widening, mouth gaping open in bewilderment, to stand off the bed, attempting to escape before I spontaneously combust. Hand on the door knob I clear my throat, “thanks for patching me up.” Pulling the door open, I slip out and flee down the hall before he has a chance to respond.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life's a bitch, here's a chapter.

_Nico_

 

The already chilly weather takes a nose dive overnight, all signs pointing towards an early winter. By morning a layer of frost coats the grass. In the absence of the sun's warm rays, completely hidden behind thick grey clouds, the glittering crystallized dew persists throughout the day, giving the campus a soft, ethereal feel. Cupping my hands to my mouth, I breathe hot air, attempting to warm my numbing fingertips through my thin black gloves. It does little to fight the chill as my breath transforms into a small cloud of fog, leaving a wispy trail behind me as a hurry along the sidewalk. I quicken my pace, idly hoping that power walking will generate even a smidge more warmth.

My hand wraps around cold, dark iron, pulling the heavy wooden door open with more force than strictly necessary, so as to duck into the building ASAP. The surge of warmth sends an involuntary shiver down my spine, almost as if that will rid my body of the clinging cold. Sweeping my eyes across the large, dimly lit room, it takes a few moments for me to pick Jason out of the slightly crowded lounge. Quickly approaching midterms have students buckling down, the air weighing heavily with a slightly panicked frenzy from the fervor of cramming. I weave my way through the maze of tables, the sound of shuffling notecards and tapping pencils quickly sucking me in.

Jason somehow managed to score the best table in the room; directly in front of the towering stone fireplace, furthest from the door where gusts of wind chill students each time someone enters or leaves. I drop into the chair across from Jason, who grunts in acknowledgement of my presence but doesn't look up from what he's working on. Quietly pulling out my own work, I dive into studying, the soothing crackle of the fire fostering a focus so intense, I hardly notice the table filling up. Someone slides quietly into the seat next to me, but it isn't until I hear my name a while later that I drag myself away from my notes, rubbing at my eyes.

"So Jason, what's your take on Nico punching that guy yesterday?" I'm surprised to see Lou Ellen sitting a few seats away, until I realize it's Will who settled quietly next to me. He's eyeing me thoughtfully as I blink away slight disorientation and silently passes me a water bottle. Leave it to Will to be worried about hydration while everyone else panics about exams and papers. I take several large gulps while noting that Kayla, Hazel, Piper, Percy, and Leo have all spread out around the large wooden table as well.

"Is that why he came home with a bandaged hand?" Jason continues idly flipping through his textbook, clearly un-phased by the conversation.

"Your roommate comes home with a bandaged hand, and you don't ask questions?"

He looks up at her now, cocking an eyebrow amused. "If I asked questions every time Nico came home injured, it would be all we ever talked about, and that gets boring pretty fast. Trust me, I tried it in 8th grade."

Lou Ellen's eyes dart to me, reassessing "he can't be that bad." Her statement is hesitant, a mixture of disbelief and curiosity.

I spare a quick glance at Will, who appears to be considering this seriously, "we had a white board in the infirmary: 'days since Nico was last here'"

"Is it a Solace thing to use whiteboards to track my behavior, or?" I mutter, earning a confused look from Will. The way he cocks his head to the side vaguely reminds me of a puppy, and I absolutely refuse to admit that I find it adorable.

His attention is quickly drawn away though by Jason chortling, "remember the few months he tried to avoid security by jumping from tree to tree, arguing that if he wasn't on the ground they wouldn't be able to take him to class?"

"THAT'S why he kept being brought in with leaves in his hair and a dislocated shoulder?!"

I scowl, looking back and forth between the two blondes, "you know I'm sitting right here, right?"

No one acknowledges me, and Lou Ellen uses the break to launch into a full blown story of me punching the asshole who stood up Will, presumably having gotten all the details from Kayla, that traitor. As soon as Jason hears the circumstances surrounding me punching the guy he shoots me a smug smirk that is a little too knowing and has me scowling even harder. I can already tell that introducing Lou Ellen and Jason to each other was a huge mistake.

Next to me, Will clears his throat and just loud enough for me to hear asks, "are we going to talk about the fact that you punched a guy in the face for standing me up?"

Refusing to look away from Jason, seeing as we're now engaged in a not-childish-at-all staring contest, I hope that Will doesn't notice the warmth in my face. "That's a solid no," I deadpan.

"But-"

"No."

He falls quiet and gently picks up my still-bandaged hand, sending a thrill through my body at the contact. Anyone else, I would have yanked my hand away and snapped at them, but I find myself relaxing under his touch. He moves my fingers one at a time, probably testing their range of motion, although he appears deep in thought and not really focused on the task itself. "You know, if word gets out you're defending my honor, you'll probably end up making someone jealous." His voice is light, almost as if addressing no one in particular and just voicing a thought he didn't mean to speak aloud. I give up staring Jason down to direct a look at Will, that I hope will convey my complete and utter confusion.

He looks up at me, blinking slowly, as if just realizing he did actually say that out loud. "Whoever you wrote that love song about. You go around punching people for me and it might hurt your chances with who ever that is."

My eyebrows are furled, as if the harder I draw them together, the better to make sense of this situation. "Love song?"

Suddenly Will's eyes go wide and his lips form an "oh" but no sound comes out. I can almost literally see as things click into place for him, but I'm still no closer to knowing what the hell he's referring to and am starting to get agitated at this point, rapidly tapping my pencil on the table as I wait for him to share with the class. His eyes flick away and I'm momentarily mesmerized as he bites on his lip, tugging it into his mouth with his teeth, before slowly releasing it. His mouth transforms into a sheepish smile. I swallow dryly and force myself to drag my eyes away from his mouth before I get distracted. His face is rather red, whether from embarrassment or proximity to the fireplace, I'm not sure.

"Heh. Heh. Oh yeah. I uh- forgot, I may have heard you playing without you knowing." He pauses and I raise an eyebrow impatiently waiting for him to continue, and slightly distracted by the fact he's still holding my hand. "Well, Kayla was missing one night so I stopped by the practice room to see if she was there, but only you were. But I may have kinda sorta sat in the hallway listening to you write a song?" His voice trails off, rising up at the end in a half question.

It begins to click in my head what he's saying, and mild sense of dread settles heavy in my stomach. "I'm in a song writing class, you're going to have to be more specific about which one."

"Ummm... it's the way you move, the way you smile-"

"Okay stop." My voice comes out hurried and slightly frantic. "What was your point to all of this?"

By this point I'm positive Will is embarrassed. Not only is his face red but he's begun fidgeting with the bandages on my hand. Unwrapping and rewrapping them; a tell I've picked up that he does when he's nervous. Mentally, I register this, but am too flustered myself to really empathize. More worried about finding a new topic and getting the fuck away from this one.

"Ummm. Never mind?"

I drop my pencil, freeing my hand to rake my fingers through my hair, before using it to still his fidgeting ones. "Look, there's no one for me to make jealous punching people who are dicks to you so, chill dude."

His eyebrows jump up towards his hairline for a brief moment, muttering a quiet "oh". I gently withdraw my hands and turn away from his analyzing gaze, returning to my studying to avoid further questions on the matter. I feel his gaze lingering on me for a minute longer before he goes back to his own work and quiet settles on the table once again.

* * *

“I don’t give a damn.”

“You give so many damns, the gods can see them from Olympus.”

"Oh come on, what kind of asshole not only stands someone up, but brags about it loudly in a common area for everyone to hear?"

"Apparently the kind who is set up on a date with the guy you're madly in love with."

I spin around, finger pointed accusingly at him, "we had an agreement about never using the 'L' word around me."

"You need to talk to him Nico. Pretending he and your feelings didn't exist was all fine and dandy when you never saw him, but watching the two of you dance around one another every single day is getting unbearable for all of us."

Jason is sprawled on his bed, head resting in his hand while his elbow props him up. I studiously ignore the worried mom look he’s giving me and continue loading my backpack up with my notes and laptop. “Whatever. I’m going to the library.”

“On a Friday night?”

“I need to finish this history of jazz paper that’s due Tuesday, so yes. On a Friday.”

“At least send him a message and set up a time to talk, just the two of you."

I shudder at the thought and look over at him, slightly horrified. "My allergies. List them."

He rolls his eyes, "bee stings and the full range of human emotions."

"Thank you."

"You’re really making this more complicated than it needs to be,” exasperation is evident in his voice, but I can't bring myself to care.

I pull a hoodie on over my head, before adding my leather jacket. Scanning the small room, I spot my scarf hanging off the door of my wardrobe. “There’s nothing to be complicating, because there’s nothing going on.”

“You know, you’ll still give a damn in the library.”

Tugging on my gloves, I pull the door open to leave, but spare one last glance over my shoulder, “what is this, Green Eggs and Ham? I will not give a damn here, nor there, nor anywhere.”

Stepping outside into the dark, frigid night, I'm grateful for what a short walk it is to the library from my dorm. This doesn't stop me though from pulling my jacket closer, shoulders hunched against the icy wind. My mind is whirring, considering what Jason said about needing to talk to Will about my feelings. Just the thought makes me sick to my stomach, both at the notion of talking about feelings and of how Will would react. Up until this point I've avoided thinking about Cecil's comment, implying that Will called me beautiful, but find my thoughts drifting in that direction without my consent.

It's entirely possibly (and likely) that Cecil just wanted to embarrass Will, and Will never actually said that. Will looked mortified, and I mean what option did he have for responding? Deny saying it? He wouldn't, because he's too sweet and wouldn't want to offend me. Plus, if you take into account how confident Will is with saying exactly what he's thinking, he wouldn't have been embarrassed if it were something he had actually said. Right?

Ugh.

But what if he did mean it?

I make it to the library, meandering my way toward the floor dedicated to music history, mind half focused on finding relevant books, half still considering my Solace predicament. I'm not exactly bad at reading people; in general it's quite the opposite. When I actually give any attention to the people around me, I find it easy to interpret their actions and underlying thoughts. The exception to this rule being, of course, the one who matters most. I've always had a hard time reading Will, in no small part due to the fact that I second guess everything, wondering if I'm reading him right or just projecting what I'm hoping for.

Over the past few weeks I've realized that sometimes Will's confidence is false bravado. Sometimes his relaxed demeanor a shield to hid his insecurities. Unfortunately, this has done nothing to diminish my opinion of him, and only served to make me fiercely protective of him, with no real excuse as to why I am that way. I could probably chalk it up to being defensive of my friends if someone asked, if there weren't other tells of me giving Will special privileges compared to other friends. Not pulling away from physical contact. Letting him get away with teasing me way more than anyone else. And I can't even seem to control how much I smile around him.

These feelings are getting out of control, and I have no idea how to reign them in, short of cutting him out of my life. I may have considered that at the beginning of the semester when I first saw him, but now? I don't think I could, even if I wanted to.

And I don't want to...

I drop my head to the desk, into the book that's open in front of me. Massaging my temples, I take a few deep breaths to organize my thoughts, and push them away for a later time. Right now, I have a paper to write.

* * *

I lose all track of time and am violently torn from my focus by an announcement suddenly cutting through the silence that the library will be closing in 15 minutes. Checking my phone, I see that it's 2:45 and rub at my burning eyes. I'll proof read in the morning I guess, at least I got the paper finished. I save and close my laptop, packing it and my notebook back up, before shouldering my bag and heading towards the back stairs.

I come out on the ground floor, and even from the mostly deserted area can hear the shuffling and low voices of students coming from the main lobby. I take a step in that direction but stop quickly when pale blonde hair catches the corner of my eye through a gap in the bookcases. Navigating around the shelves, I find a small table pushed into a corner, covered under a mess of notes, empty coffee cups, and open books. Slumped over, face pressed into one such book, is Will. His broad chest, rising and falling slowly, pale curling strands hiding much of his freckled face. Quietly, so as not to startle him, I place a hand on his back and give him a gentle shake.

"Will." No response. "Solace, you gotta wake up, the library is closing." I give him a more insistent shake, but his breathing doesn't so much as change. Sighing, I begin gathering his notes and closing books, hoping maybe he'll wake when he hears me packing his things into his bag. At the very least it will save him having to do it when he wakes with the library closing in less than 10 minutes now.

I manage to get everything into his bag, even the book from under his head, without him so much as shifting in his sleep. I'm actually rather impressed. My shoulders rise and fall as I give a huff of resignation, swinging his backpack uncomfortably on over my own. Looking around, I scowl, noting a distinct lack of jacket, and settle for pulling the hood of his sweatshirt up over his curls. Leaning down, I loop one of his arms over my shoulders, sliding my own around his back and under his other arm. Straightening, I pull him up out of the chair, a light snore the only acknowledgement I get out of him.

I can't help the small smile of disbelief tugging at my lips. How the fuck is he this dead to the world? Maneuvering him away from the table, I lean down and in one smooth motion catch behind his knees, swinging him up into my arms. Shuffling a bit, I manage to get both backpacks settled comfortably against my back, and him, sound asleep, against my chest. Carrying him through the lobby I get a few stares, which I ignore, but most people don't even seem phased. I wonder if this happens often at closing time in the library.

If I thought I was grateful on the walk over for the short trip, it's nothing compared to now. As if carrying his dead weight wasn't enough, his medical texts weigh more than any book has the right to. I walk as quickly as I can, weighed down as I am, and sigh in relief when I make it through the automated doors of the dorm tower. Managing the elevator buttons with my hip is a bitch, but not nearly as frustrating as when I find myself staring at my door, no free hands to unlock it.

Growling in frustration, I turn around, lean back, and bang my head against the door a couple times until I hear Jason shuffling inside. I silently thank the gods that he's a light sleeper when the door swings open, and his jaw drops in sleepy shocked confusion.

"Not a word," I mumble, pushing past him into the room.

I lower Will onto my bed, and make quick work of pulling his shoes and hoodie off, before tucking him under the covers. Grabbing one of the pillows, I drop onto the rug next to my bed, and am being drug under by exhaustion before Jason has even stopped staring in bewilderment.

* * *

Drifting somewhere in that state between sleep and wakefulness, I hear the door open and close. I try and relax my mind enough to slip deeper into the inviting pool of darkness, knowing that if Jason is leaving for his run it’s only a few hours since I got home from the library. My body begins to relax again, and I bury my face deeper into my pillow, when I feel fingers brush gently over the hair at the nape of my neck causing me to grunt in surprise.

“Huh. Guess ’m not dreamin'.”

“Why would you be dreaming about me sleeping on the floor?” My voice is heavily laced with sleep and muffled by the pillow.

“Well it didn’t seem realistic that it was actually happening, so dream seemed like the most likely scenario?”

I grunt in acknowledgement, but feel myself already being tugged back under by sleep.

“What time is it?”

“Crazy early if Jason just left.”

“How did I get here?”

“Later, Solace. Sleep now.” He’s quiet and I think I’m finally going to be able to doze back off, when I feel his hand wrap around my wrist and give it a gently tug. I lift my head enough to look at him curiously, but he isn’t meeting my gaze.

“We can both fit on the bed, you’re going to hurt yourself sleeping on the hard floor.”

I consider telling him that I do this on a regular basis in the practice room, but opt not to be argumentative for the sake of arguing. Besides, a bed is undeniably preferable to the floor. Even more than half asleep I feel the blush creeping across my cheeks and admit to myself that largely, I’m not arguing because I don’t want him to change his mind.

Luckily my inner monologue currently weighing the million ways this could go wrong is interrupted by him giving my wrist another insistent tug, “Doctor’s orders.”

He drops his hold on my wrist and scoots closer to the wall as I clumsily get to my feet and drop my pillow on the bed. I kick my shoes off, having not bothered to when I got home only a few hours earlier, before pulling the covers back enough to slide under. Where I had been about to pass out moments before, laying face to face with Will, a scant few inches separating us, I find myself suddenly very awake and focused on keeping my breathing steady and slow.

We lay silently for a few minutes, and I find myself laying straight as a board to avoid touching him. Apparently he isn’t experiencing the same distress that I am though, as I hear more than see the blanket rustle a bit as he shifts. I feel his knee brush mine as he works to withdraw his hand from beneath the covers and hesitantly reaches up towards my hair, pausing to give me a chance to pull away. When I don’t, he pushes my dark strands away and tentatively touches my temple. In the near pitch black room, I’m positive he can’t see the scar there, and am surprised he remembers it, let alone can find it by muscle memory. A shiver runs through me at his finger tips grazing the sensitive skin, and my eyes slip shit. Quietly, a huff of breath escapes my lips and I feel my body relax, shoulders drooping, back softening, my entire body melting under this little bit of contact.

“I should let you sleep.” His deep voice is hardly even a whisper, infinitely tender in the hour before sunrise, as if speaking any louder is likely to shatter the world around us. My lids are heavy as I drag them open to see him withdrawing his hand.

In a moment of reckless bravery I whisper back, “roll over.” Even sleepy and disoriented by being this close to Will, I note the brief flash of worry in his face and assume he thinks this is a response to him touching me. I can’t exactly say it isn’t, but not in the way he thinks, so I just give his shoulder a gently nudge. He obliges and rolls to face the wall, but before he can get situated, I wrap an arm around his waist, hand on his chest, and pull him back towards me.

I feel his sharp intake of breath and quickly remove my arm once he’s no longer pushed up against the wall. My voice stutters, “I just thought you’d be more comfortable… we’d both fit better on the bed…” I feel the startled tension leave his body and a shaky breath exhale in a whoosh. My heart is thundering against my chest and I’m worried he’ll be able to feel it pounding against his back. He shifts a bit and my breath hitches as he fits his body perfectly against mine. In the darkened room, all color has been sapped from his hair, making it practically glow a dim halo around his head. Eyeing the soft curls in front of me, I consider burying my face in them, but wonder if that would be crossing some line. Arguably the line is currently like sand blowing in the wind, and I’m not even entirely sure is still present enough for me to cross it, but still. I dare to lean forward a bit and hesitantly whisper to him, “is this okay?”

Will is quiet and I hold my breath, wondering if I’ve seriously fucked up. I feel him shift a bit before his hand grabs my arm, slowly pulling it back around his waist. My foggy brain takes a bit to catch on, before adjusting to hold him against me, hand resting near his chest again. Gently, he lays his arm back down, hand resting next to mine. I feel more than hear the content hum rumble in his chest and can’t help the sappy smile that spreads across my face.

“Night, Sunshine.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience.


	26. Chapter 26

_Will_

 

I woke up slowly in a cocoon of warmth, feeling safer and more content than I ever remember being. Which is really saying something, since I grew up in a large, loving family, where several of us ending up in one bed was not at all uncommon. For a while, I keep my eyes shut, just drifting softly in a haze, the methodic tapping of rain on the window a comforting and steady melody in the background.

I vaguely register a key turning in a lock, but it’s the light from the hallway spilling across my face that has me scrunching my forehead and opening my eyes to squint at the disturbance. A silhouetted shadow slips into the room, before closing the door softly behind them. Their hand is on the door, as if willing it to not make a noise when they glance toward the bed. Blinking sleepily, my eyes adjust to the dark again and I recognize Jason Grace as a sheepish smile spreads across his face. His hand comes up to rub the back of his neck, and I groan quietly, trying not to wake the boy I now remember is sleeping behind me.

“Hrmmmm no, it’s too early for awkward. Stop looking at me like that,” I whisper, words slurred together by sleep, as I snuggle deeper into the covers. I watch him out of the corner of my eye as his smile turns to a smirk and he moves closer to the bed, glancing down to see Nico still asleep. His chest rising and falling slowly against my back, warm breath tickling my neck.

“How do you DO that?!” Jason whispers in awe. I look at him sleepily, waiting for him to elaborate. He meets my eyes and just shakes his head. “Anyone else touches him and they risk losing a finger, or possibly the whole hand. But you? He willingly touches and lets touch him. You must be magic, Will Solace.”

Chuckling, he turns away, but pauses at my quiet inquiry, “why me?”

Turning back I see his face drop, gaze searching mine. “You need to ask him that.” He hesitates for a moment, before adding, “I’m going to grab some clothes and go hang out at Piper’s today. You’ll have the place to yourself. You know, just as a heads up in case you two need to talk about anything in particular. Oh, also, fun fact, he get's really... honest when he's sleepy.”

I don’t say anything else, but watch him gather a change of clothes, eyes slipping shut as the door closes and locks behind him. Even though it presumably hasn't been that long since we went to bed, my body is still programmed to being up early, and I find myself unable to fall back asleep. My mind slowly comes to full wakefulness, as I lay enjoying the warmth and comfort of a chilly, rainy morning in the arms of the only person I’ve ever wanted to wake up like this with.

Behind me, Nico whimpers quietly in his sleep, tightening his arm around me, holding me closer to his chest. Gently, I slip my hand up to rest on his, twining our fingers together. Nico quickly folds them together, closing our hands so that they are clasped entwined over my heart. Breathing in, my breath stutters as I feel him immediately calm again, nuzzling his face further into my neck and stilling.

Stroking his thumb with mine, my eyes flutter shut. A thought flits across my mind…

_I love him._

I should probably be startled by the realization, but instead I just feel my lips tug up contentedly at the inevitability of the thought. As if there were any other way. As if there would ever be anyone else. Everyone always says you fall in love, but I don’t think it’s true. There is nothing jolting or shocking or surprising about loving Nico. It’s more like I’ve been asleep for ages, chasing the edge of a dream I’m not quite able to grasp. It kept slipping through my fingers, until suddenly I woke up. Not like when you snap awake from an alarm clock, but when you slowly open your eyes on a cool fall morning, to see that the dream you were chasing was there all along. Right in front of you. It’s comfortable, and warm, and safe, and full of possibility. Of what if’s and what will be’s.

My mind is whirring a mile a minute, heart pounding, and suddenly the emotions crashing on me are too much to not be able to see him. I turn over in the circle of his arm, until I can gaze on his face. I’ve watched him in the infirmary a dozens times before, sleeping off injuries, but somehow this is still different. Hesitantly, I reach up and brush silky strands from his face, fingers carding through as I push them back. He breathes a soft, drawn out sigh at the touch, eyes dragging open slowly, as if held down by weights. My hand freezes in his hair, but before I can draw back, he reaches up and places his over mine, holding it in place.

"S-sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," my voice a rushed, breathy whisper.

He lets his eyes slip back shut, nuzzling his face against my hand, reminding me of a cat. His hand falls from mine and suddenly he's wiggling forward, making pathetic little noises that have me smiling. He fits his knee between my legs, slips both arms around my waist, and tucks his head underneath my chin, fitting us together like a puzzle, as if he needs every inch of him touching every inch of me. A content hum rumbles deep in his chest, and I almost expect him to start purring. My right arm is pinned down by his head, but once he settles I slide my left up his back, fingers spread, palm feeling every bit of hard muscle before I slide over prickly undercut, and tangle in the longer locks, holding him tight against me.

I'm not sure how long we lay like that, but I spend my time trying to memorize the way it feels, preserve the memory for fear I never have it again. I refuse to let that insecurity take root though, determined to find a way to have this again and again. I would think that Nico had fallen asleep if it weren't for the slow movement of his foot against my calf, and I can't help my curiosity as to what he's thinking about.

"Niiiiiicoooooo." I singsong.

A grumpy grunt in return.

I smile wide, "Neeeeeks."

I'm not sure, considering how muffled it is against my chest, but I think he mutters a, "don't call me that."

"How did you get me back here?" I whisper, my breath fluttering his hair a bit.

"Carried you." His voice is low and it's doing weird things to my stomach.

I freeze, furrowing my brow, "how did you carry me, and my stuff from the library to here?"

He grunts, nuzzling my chest a bit, making it incredible difficult to focus on anything except him in my arms. "You're lighter than Jason. Not that hard."

I have a flash of a memory of his sleeves rolled up at the last concert, exposing toned forearms with tattoos peeking out from the cuffs at his elbows.

Sliding my palm up and down his spine, trying to ignore images of what the rest of him must look like, I bury my nose in his hair, inhaling deeply the intoxicating smell of pure Nico. "Whatcha thinkin' 'bout?"

He doesn't answer, but tightens his arms harder around my waist. I chuckle lowly, "man, you're really cuddly in the morning."

Pulling away, a mixture of emotions flit across his face. Defensive, embarrassed, shy, before settling on hesitantly guarded. Reaching up, I cup his face, stroking my thumb along his cheek bone.

"I didn't mean it as a bad thing. I think it's really sweet." His eyes search mine, before dropping closed. Presumably forgiven, face turning slightly to lean into my touch. Suddenly nervous, my voice is even quieter than before, which I didn't think was possible. "I like this."

I watch him hesitantly, searching for any sort of reaction.

"I already know you're a touchy person, Will." His voice is husky, heavy with sleep still, sending heat to pool in my gut.

"Not like this."

Obsidian eyes open, suddenly much more awake as they study me thoughtfully. "What do you mean?"

I swallow thickly, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. I can feel that I'm starting to fidget, but can't seem to control it; twisting the material of his shirt between my fingers, foot twitching a rapid, shaky rhythm. Swallowing again, trying to find the words, I consider backing out entirely and just saying never mind, until a slim, calloused finger is under my chin, tipping my face up.

My eyes dart back and forth frantically, searching his for any sign, any indication as to what he's feeling, but he just gazes back at me steadily. Unflinching, unyielding, steady and strong.

"I like this, too" he tells me slowly.

"Do you, uhm.. do you do this often?"

His finger drops from my chin. "What? Find boys catatonic in the library and carry them home to my bed?" I can tell he's waking up, if he's able to use sarcasm.

I roll my eyes, but don't miss the little quirk of his lips fighting a smile.

"Actually, you're the first person I've spent the night with. If you can call it that, since we didn't get home until past 3."

I knew that he wasn't a big fan of touching, but this answer still surprises me, remembering how comfortable he appeared with Connor kissing him anyway. I decide to bite the bullet. "Why are you more comfortable with me touching you, but don't let other people?"

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "When we were younger, I thought it was because I was used to you doing it. You always had to touch me when you were healing me and all that. But then... I don't know... I started to kind of realize I enjoyed it. And then I actually craved it, which made me careful to not get hurt or caught because I didn't want to be brought to you..." he cuts off, looking down and biting his lip. "I thought maybe if I stayed away from you it would go away. But I guess not."

My mind is reeling, and I find myself staring at his lips as I process the information, trying to understand what it all means. White teeth, tug at the flesh nervously. Slowly, I touch his lip with my thumb, freeing it from the onslaught before he can bite it bloody. I can feel his gaze on me wide-eyed, but continue slowly tracing my thumb over the velvety skin, feeling his hot breath, uneven against the digit.

Finally, I ask, "that what would go away?"

I'm mesmerized, watching and feeling him speak against the pad of my thumb. "All of this," he whisper, closing his eyes like it hurts him. I've never known him to be this open before, and now that there's even a glimmer of hope, I refuse to let it slip away. I slide my hand to the back of his neck, refusing to allow any distance to grow between us. "The needing you, and craving you, and wanting you around." His voice is getting faster, spilling out like sand from a broken hourglass. Unstoppable once it's begun. "Waking up thinking about you, and falling asleep wondering where you are. Remembering some stupid joke you told me years ago, or the way you looked cheering on the sidelines at a soccer game. The feel of your finger tips brushing my skin as you stitched a wound, or the number of creases your forehead gets when you don't understand a math problem. Wondering what flavor gum you chew or what-" His voice breaks and I look up, begging him silently to finish the thought. "What it would be like to kiss you, or wake every morning with you in my arms. I never could stand the thought with anyone else, so. I just. Didn't."

"Why.." my voice catches in my throat, I swallow thickly, "why didn't you tell me?"

"Why?" He chuckles humorously, "because you deserve so much more than a reckless boy. You deserve the moon and all the stars. Sweet, slow days like you tell me about in Texas, and me? I'm a raging fire that I can't control. And I couldn't stand it if I burned you."

"And what about me?" He finally opens his eyes, looking at me with those dark, bottomless pools, and I feel myself standing on the edge, ready to drown for this. "What about what I want?"

He eyes me warily. "What do you want, Will?"

My eyes flick back and forth between his, tongue darting out nervously to swipe across my lips. His gaze follows my tongue, as if he can't help it, and even in the dark I can see the color rising in his cheeks. The sight makes my breath catch, and I feel myself leaning forward to close the scant few inches between us before I can second guess myself.

Hesitantly, my lips brush his, hand still cradling the back of his neck. The touch is featherlight, hardly enough to even be called a kiss, but the velvety caress of his lips is enough to ignite a burning fire through my whole body. At a sharp intake of breath from Nico, I start to pull back, panicking, but hardly create any distance when his hands fist the front of my sweatshirt, lips chasing mine.

He pulls me hard against him, and suddenly he's kissing me back, only this time it's my turn to gasp as his mouth crashes against mine. The kiss is desperate, as if he were drowning, grasping at threads of air, unable to get enough, and I find myself matching his fervor messily. His fists unclench, fingers spreading before pushing me flat on my back, without ever breaking the kiss. Our noses bump, messy and uncoordinated, the pressure bordering on painful, when Nico breaks off. I can feel him panting, chest pressed against mine, while I gasp for air, dizzy for an entirely different reason.

Nico's eyes are wide, dark orbs standing out against the whites, practically glowing in the dim, stormy grey light. His lips are swollen, and tentatively I raise a shaking hand to touch my own and find them in a similar state. Shifting so that his weight is on one elbow, Nico reaches up and captures my hand, planting delicate kisses on each of my knuckles. I feel myself practically melt at the gesture, and wonder at the depth of emotion radiating from the beautiful boy above me.

"That's what I want."

When his eyes meet mine they're slightly unfocused.

"You asked what I wanted," I give in to a shy smile, ducking my head a bit. "I've wanted to do that since we were kids in school."

Nico chuckles, the sound deep and comforting, like a roll of thunder in the distance. "You mean we could have been doing this all along?"

I open my mouth to answer but am interrupted by a chaste kiss. Once. Twice. Three times. The next time his lips return, it's to the corner of my lips. My cheek. My chin. Soft open mouth kisses follow the line of my jaw and I can't help but tilt my head back to give him more room. His mouth pauses just below my ear and...

oh. _Oh._

A positively filthy moan escapes my lips, back arching, before I can even process a thought to stop it. I can feel Nico smile against the skin before nipping again, followed by his tongue smoothing over the skin. My breathing is ragged, but I can't even find it in myself to be embarrassed as Nico twines his fingers with mine, pushing my hand above my head and into the mattress.

My mind is swimming, overwhelmed by the sensations, absolutely drowning in every touch. His mouth returns to mine, kissing slow and languidly. His tongue swipes across my bottom lip. Hesitantly, I open to him, not sure what I'm doing, but enjoying it too much to stop. If I thought it was hot before, it's nothing compared to now. Nico takes control of the kiss and I yield completely to his methodical, tender motions. I involuntarily whimper, muffled by his lips, as I reach up, twining my arms around his neck and pull him closer, always closer.

His arms rest next to my head, boxing me in and I'm completely surrounded, enraptured by him. The taste of his mouth and smell of him all around me is a heady thing, and I don't believe I will ever be able to get enough.

The next time he pulls away, I'd be hard pressed to tell if it had been seconds, minutes, or hours that had passed, but can't find it in myself to care. Nico rests his forehead against mine, eyes closed, dark eyelashes contrasting against his skin. Slowly, I brush my nose back and forth against his, my insides warming at his responding smile.

There's hardly any distance between our lips, so that as he murmurs I feel his hot breath tickling my skin. "It's the way you move, the way you smile..."

I freeze underneath him, jaw going slack as the words come rushing back to me. When his eyes open, I can see a warm smile reflecting in them shyly. Nico tilts his head, lips against mine as he says, "it was you. It was always you, Will."

I make no effort to reign in my impulse to push up, kissing him hard in response, but he doesn't seem to mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for the long break, and that this is probably pretty shit.
> 
> I've had a bad break up, several family emergencies, a death in the family, and am in my last semester of grad school. The first several things have made it difficult to find the will to function at all, and when I do it's been on school work. Also, I wanted this to be a really soft, sweet chapter, and just wasn't in that frame of mind lately... Hopefully though it turned out alright, and this gives you something to tide you over for a while, as there is a strong possibility I won't have time to update again until I graduate in December.
> 
> Thank you for all your kind messages, you guys are the best.


	27. Chapter 27

_Nico_

 

"Hey Jason, sorry for the intrusion, but I forgot my- OH MY GODS"

The sound of Hazel's voice - and subsequent shriek - startle me so much that I jerk back, fall off the bed tangled in blankets, and land in a heap on the floor. At least I'm buried and she can't see the mortified blush on my face.

"Nico..?" She asks hesitantly.

"This is fine. I'll just die right here, thanks."

Will lets out a pitiful whimper from the bed, and I almost feel sorry for leaving him exposed to deal with the situation, but not sorry enough to leave my cocoon.

"Not fair, let me in."

A heavy weight lands on top of me and I grunt in pain. It quickly rolls off of me and manifests as Will when he wiggles into the blanket burrito on top of me, yanking the blankets over his head as well.

"You're crushing my spleen."

"You don't even know where your spleen is."

Hazel delicately clears her throat and both of us still, as if maybe, by some miracle, she'll forget we're here.

"Soooooo, what's going on with you two this morning....."

"I am way too sober for this," I grumble, Will's chin digging into the side of my head.

"Did I- erm, interrupt something, uh... intimate?"

Finally giving in, I yank the blanket of both mine and Will's heads (earning a very undignified squeak from him) to look at Hazel. "I regret a lot of things in my life, but this conversation is currently topping the list. So how about we pretend this didn't happen and you tell us why you walked in."

Unfortunately for me, this appears to pull my normally prudish and easily embarrassed sister out of her flustered state, and into 'tease my brother' mode.

"Oh, hello William, I didn't notice you there, on top of my brother. How are you two this early, rainy morning, when you're perfectly dry and clearly didn't get here recently?"

As if to emphasize her point, lightning illuminates the room, followed by a roll of thunder in the distance. Will opens his mouth - I'm not entirely sure he has a response, but it ends up being irrelevant, as Hazel waves her hand flippantly and continues on, the sweetest smile plastered to her face.

"I apologize for startling you, but I knocked a couple times and received no response. I know Jason is usually awake at this time, and Nico sound asleep, so I figured it was safe to come in and retrieve the book I forgot here yesterday, which I oh so desperately need for midterm studying today."

"Oh, fuck! Midterms! I need to get back to studying, I have that-"

The rest of Will's panic is lost on me as I stare incredulously at him. He climbs clumsily out of the cocoon, his curls a mess, and begins searching for his backpack. I drop my head back, knocking it on the floor, groaning.

"-what time is it anyway, is the library open yet?"

"Yeah, it's almost 8."

"Thanks Hazel! I'll head back over there... I wonder if they'll notice I'm in the same clothes I was last night..."

His hand is on the door knob when I realize he fully intends on going back to the library. I shove myself hastily to a sitting position, trying to untangle myself from the knot of sheets and blankets.

"I swear to Hades, Will, if you abandon me to deal with my sister right now..."

Blue eyes flit from me, to Hazel, narrowing back on me again. He seems to weigh his options, before flashing me his easy, sunny smile that has me practically melting into a puddle on the floor. "I'm sure you'll be fine, Death Boy. How about I swing by later after studying and a shower, and take you out to dinner?"

My jaw drops at how smooth he's being in the face of the utter mortification that is my baby sister walking in on us making out, not even 20 minutes prior. I must stutter through some manner of agreement because his smile widens, before he turns and walks out the door.

And I'm left alone. With Hazel. And her shit eating grin.

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise."

"At one point my morning was a pleasant surprise, but this," I gesture vaguely between us,"is not part of that."

She jumps up onto Jason's bed, legs swinging from the low loft. "Sooooo."

"Nope, I'm going to take a shower."

"Ohhhhh no you don't Nico. You HAVE TO TELL ME." She pauses, apparently thoughtful, "I need to know if I won money off Piper or not."

"I thought I told you guys to stop betting on my life!"

"You did." She smiles sweetly at me, "and we ignored you. Although, Leo started the bet this time, so." She shrugs, as if this explains everything. And honestly, it kind of does. "Are you two dating now?"

I rake my fingers through my hair agitated. "We might be if someone hadn't interrupted us before I got around to asking..."

"But you kissed?"

"Well, yeah."

"So, you're probably dating."

"How should I know!" I throw my hands in the air, exasperated and more than a little bit flustered. Now that the adrenaline rush of making out with Will is gone, I'm starting to freak out over the whole situation, just a pinch. Just a little. Okay, maybe a lot. "I've never dated someone, just... fucked." Hazel cringes at my brash language, but honestly she kinda deserves it, so I carry on. "How do I know if we're dating?"

The question was mostly rhetorical, but she chews her lip thinking, while continuing to swing her legs like a little kid on a swing. "Well, it sounds like he is taking you on a date tonight, so either you are dating, or you can officially ask each other out tonight."

Sure. When she says it, it sounds easy. Wait...

"Tonight's a date?"

She looks at me and blinks. Once. Twice. "Yes, Nico... Asking to take you out to dinner is a date."

"But... we go to dinner together all the time."

"Well, yeah, but usually it's 'hey have you eaten? Wanna go to the caf?' Not, 'we were just groping each other and making out, will you go have dinner with me tonight?'"

"I'm... not sure I see the difference."

"Oh my gods." She flops back dramatically on Jason's bed. I continue to stand staring at her in confusion, until I hear my phone vibrate on my desk. Will's name lights up the screen, and it feels like someone has opened a cage of butterflies in my stomach. Hesitantly, I hold the phone in my hands for a moment or two, before unlocking it and opening the message.

[Will 8:06]: Sorry to bail on you like that, she mentioned midterms and the panic took over... I hope you're not upset with me...

[Will 8:06]: This morning was incredible. I hope I didn't ruin it.

My heart twinges, and I can almost hear his nervous, faltering voice in my head. Practically see his shy glances and the way his blue eyes flick back and forth when he's worried.

[Nico 8:06]: I'm not upset at all, Sunshine.

I shift from foot to foot, considering whether or not to send my next message, before taking the risk. I hit send, and throw the phone on my bed like it's a hot potato.

[Nico 8:07]: I could get used to mornings like that... I can't wait to see you again later.

A small cough startles me, and I spin around to see Hazel arching a prim eyebrow at me. Whoops. Guess she saw that little display of nerves.

"What did you just do?"

"Erm. Throw my phone?"

"Why?"

"Uhhhh. I might have said I enjoyed this morning and can't wait to see him later?"

She smiles so wide, I worry it might split her face. "Ohhhh Nico I'm so proud of you! Look at you, communicating like an actual, functioning person with emotions."

I roll my eyes but have no defense.

 

* * *

 

Hazel retrieved her book and left, but not before extracting a promise for me to text her after the date tonight, leaving me alone in my dim dorm room. Settling in at my desk, proof reading the paper from the night before, which unfortunately doesn't take much time at all.

Following a long shower, I decide to trudge out in the rain to the practice room. Unable to find my umbrella, I pull up the hood of my sweatshirt and tug my leather jacket on over it, but still have droplets of water clinging to my hair and face by the time I get across campus. Running my fingers through it, I shove the wet strands off my forehead. I shed the wet articles and try to find a dry scrap of fabric on me to dry my hands before I retrieve my notebook from my backpack and pick up my guitar.

The songs for my midterm portfolio are mostly complete, but I play through all of them anyway. Making changes here and there, rewriting neatly the ones that are finished on fresh staff paper. I absentmindedly pluck at the strings, deciding what to work on next. Briefly I consider practicing the song for our last competition concert, but conclude that I'm too tired and relaxed to get into the up beat melody.

As if on their own accord, I find my hands quietly strumming a different Sleeping with Sirens song, and can't help by smile. Pausing, I cross the room, settling on the floor leaning against the wall. Wiggling down until I'm leaned comfortably, I settle the acoustic back on my lap and begin again, closing my eyes and working my way softly through the intro by muscle memory alone.

 _There's so many things that I could say_  
_But I'm sure it would come out all wrong_  
_You've got something that I can't explain_  
_Still I'll try and try and let you know_

My thoughts drift back to that morning, allowing the music to ease my anxiety and thrill in the memory of waking wrapped up with Will, just like I had dreamt about so many times over the years. It was even better than I could have imagined, with none of the awkwardness I expected. After all these years, it was as if our bodies had been waiting for this all along. A home coming. Two magnets drawn together, fitting like pieces of a puzzle.

 _You still have all of my_  
_You still have all of my_  
_You still have all of my heart_

The door creaks quietly as it opens, but I hear it even over my guitar. Opening my eyes, my first impression is blonde curls peeking in the doorway, and I expect it to be Kayla. Instead, it's Will who steps in the room, smiling shyly. I smile through the lyrics, noting his damp hair and wondering if it's from the rain or a shower. I hope it's the second and that means I have him for the rest of the evening and he won't run off to study again.

_I'd ask "you think we'd ever make it?"_

His lips move along, whispering "I'm sure, if it's right" and my heart rate picks up. I cock my head to the side teasingly.

 _Ain't it funny to think just how stupid I used to be?_  
_Hope you always believe_

 _You still have all of my_  
_You still have all of my_  
_You still have all of my heart_

I watch him as he crosses the room, sinking to the floor, folding his long legs in criss-crossed, knees touching mine. He sways gently to the music, blue eyes never leaving my face.

 _Every year that goes by_  
_A year older we are_  
_You'll still be beautiful then_  
_Bless your beautiful heart_  
_We'll talk and talk and talk_  
_How crazy is it?_  
_Someone could waste their whole life helplessly_  
_Just patiently waiting for a love like you and me_

His eyes are watery as I strum the outro, quietly repeating the last of the chorus, until he leans forward over my guitar, pressing a slow, chaste kiss to my lips.

"Be mine," I whisper, before kissing him again.

He smiles, whispering back, "I always have been."


	28. Chapter 28

_ Will _

 

Nico is quiet as I drive us to dinner. It makes me nervous that he's not enjoying himself or doesn't want to be here, but every time I pause my rambling to glance over at him, I find him watching me with a small smile on his lips, his eyes soft. My heart thumps painfully with renewed confidence and I launch into another story, excited to have his undivided attention.

I love my sister. And I love how Nico's friends have effortlessly added not only me, but also Cecil and Lou Ellen, to their group outings, dinners, and study sessions. I really do. But there's almost never a time when it's only Nico and I, and I find that I like having him all to myself. It's thrilling, and terrifying, and I can't imagine ever having enough of it. Unlike our few coffee interludes, my mind isn't occupied with trying to figure him out and what he's feeling. Instead, I find myself slowly slipping into a comfortable state of simple enjoyment. The pleasure of being near him. Of knowing he's alone with me by choice, not circumstance.

I park my Jeep and we hurry toward our destination, shoulders hunched against the wind and rain. The sidewalk is slick, the wet cement reflecting lights from the street and shops like an oil painting. I duck under a burgundy awning, holding the door open for him and indicating our destination.

The small cafe is warm and I hear Nico sigh in pleasure as he takes in the room before him. Dark wood tables of different shapes and sizes arranged in no discernible pattern, with booths tucked into the walls, creating little alcoves. The lighting is low and warm, comfortable and mellow. A young woman sits on a stool upon a platform, the chords from her acoustic guitar weaving in and out of the rise and fall of conversations. It's a comfortable little place my mama takes Kayla and I when she visits, and felt like the perfect place to share with Nico. 

It's nothing fancy, and I rub the back of my neck suddenly feeling slightly self-conscious. "I hope it's alright."

Nico turns and faces me, his smile is as warm as the fireplace several paces away, flickering and throwing highlights across his olive features. "It's great, Will."

I relax and grab him by the wrist, leading him toward the line to order food. Written in chalk along one wall is the day's menu. I point out different things I like and explain how their ordering works. We order at the counter, waiting as they prepare our food before I lead the way to a quiet corner and into one of the alcove booths. Sliding onto opposite sides, we're quiet as we eat, but it's comfortable. Eventually, we fall into easy conversation. He asks about my midterms, we talk about his and Kayla's last concert.

At some point he pushes his sleeves up and I get a peek at the tattoos dipping below his elbows. Other than on stage when he had his button down rolled up while he played guitar, I haven't gotten a chance to see them. He seems to always wear his leather jacket, or a hoodie, or something else long sleeved. I reach over and trace my finger across a black line, jutting down the inside of his forearm.

Nico freezes mid sentence, fork stopping in the air where he had been waving it along with what he was saying. I look up at him, holding his eyes as I turn his arm over in my hand, thumb absently stroking the artery vein I can feel pulsing under the skin. Nico hesitates, apparently torn on whether this is okay, but after a moment relaxes under the touch and picks up his train of thought again.

"So, did Cecil give you a hard time when you went back to the room today?"

I chuckle lowly, rubbing the back of my neck. "He wasn't there, and I've been avoiding his messages. I'm sure that will catch up with me tonight though."

Nico snorts, "I don't envy you."

"Look who's talking! I would rather face Cecil than Jason."

Nico freezes, looking at me, eyes wide. He groans, long and pained, banging his head back against the wall behind him. "It's not even Jason that's bad, it's Piper," he whispers her name like a curse. Eyes staring toward the ceiling, I see a small smirk tug at one side of his mouth. "On a completely unrelated note, how about I crash at your place tonight? You know....even trade for last night."

Laughter bubbles up, pouring from my lips as heat burns in my chest that he would want to spend the night together again, even if I know he's joking.

"I wouldn't even make you carry me back." His dark eyes are fixed on me, dancing with mirth.

My cheeks flush under his gaze, "I still can't believe you carried me."

I freeze, transfixed as his grin becomes slightly cocky, eyes lidded. He leans forward, elbows on the table, and I find myself leaning in slightly as well.

"Want me to do it again while you're awake to prove it?" he practically purrs.

My eyes flick down to his lips, slightly parted, tongue pressed against the back of his teeth. I can hear that my breathing is slightly irregular, but can't seem to send the right signals to correct the problem. I stare as his lips turn down into the slightest of frowns. He doesn't pull back, but I can see the hesitancy reflected in his eyes and the creases between his brows.

"Are you sure about this?" 

I cock my head to the side, "'bout what?"

He looks down at his hands on the table, fingers weaving together, then pulling apart again. "Us," he mumbles.

I lean forward, elbows on the table and grateful my mama ain't here to see it. Nico peers up at me, hair falling forward in his face. "I have a secret," I whisper conspiratorially. 

I see the corner of his mouth twitch, and I realize his face when I make him smile but he fights it may be my favorite thing in the world. He cocks an eyebrow in silent acknowledgement and encouragement to continue.

"You were my first kiss."

His jaw drops and eyes go wide, darting back and forth between mine. Heat creeps up my neck, but I nod in exaggerated solemnity. 

"Lou Ellen set me up on that blind date, insisting I should get over my childhood crush on you." I pause, tongue darting out to wet my lips nervously. My mouth is dry and I exhale shakily, looking down at the table, unable to hold his gaze as I plunge on. "She and Cecil asked before the semester started why I never dated or anything and if I had ever even kissed someone and I told them I hadn't. It's just that. Well. No one has ever compared, I guess. No one keeps me on my toes, thrills me with their antics, or has me worried about their well-being like you do. So. So, yeah. I'm really, really sure about this, Death Boy."

There's a beat of silence, before I steel myself enough to glance up shyly. His stare is intense as emotions war across his face. We're close enough that I can feel his breath fan across my cheeks in the moments before he closes the distance between us.

My breath catches as his lips meet mine. Eyes fluttering shut. Sighing. Melting. Drowning in the words he couldn't find, but are conveyed perfectly in the tender kiss he seems to be pouring everything into. We aren't touching anywhere else, and yet it's still overwhelming. Every nerve in my body seems to be lit on fire, tingling, and pushing me to be closer to him. To be tangled like we were this morning, until we can't tell where one of us stops and the other begins.

Nico pulls back slowly, face serious and eyes smoldering, burning like charcoal, his face flushed to match the fire within him. I'm pleased to hear his breathing is as erratic as mine, hopeful that I affect him the same way he does me. We study one another, and I'm awed at the depth of his reciprocation. Nico is so reserved, collected, and competent; to see him flustered, and to know he's choosing to let me see him that way, fills me with affection until I'm afraid I may choke on it.

"Y'all havin' a staring contest orrrr..?"

For the second time that day, we jolt apart, as if struck by lightning. The gods must hate us, for this to be our luck. Either that, or they have a very twisted, sick sense of humor. Either way, Kayla is standing at the edge of our table, a large salad bowl grasped in her hands, while Thalia stands behind her. I can't be entirely sure, but I think Thalia's cough covered a snicker as she bored holes in the side of Nico's head. He studiously ignores them, raking fingers through his hair before shoving another bite of food in his mouth and chewing suspiciously slowly.

"What are you two doing here?" My pride in how steady my voice is withers as I see Kayla look pointedly at her food and then back to me. "I mean, like, specifically here. In this restaurant."

"Well, I thought it would be a nice change of pace from cafeteria food. Are we interrupting something?" She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively and I widen mine in a show of innocence.

"Nope, Will here just found out I don't take multivitamins or get the flu shot and was trying to use his nonexistent intimidation tactics against me."

I whip my head around as Kayla bursts out laughing, my eyes narrowing on Nico who looks entirely too smug about getting a rise out of me. I'll have to ask him later if those things are true...

Nico tugs his sleeves down as Kayla sets her food on the table, shoving him on the shoulder. When he doesn't move, she perches on the edge of the bench, every inch of her side pressed up against his. Despite knowing she's not into him I still feel a small twinge of jealousy, until he scoots over just to get her out of his bubble.

I move over and Thalia slides in next to me, commenting on how much she likes the atmosphere and how she heard our mama takes us here all the time, and how has she never heard of it before now. Across the table, Kayla and Nico are throwing walnuts from their salads in the air for the other to catch in their mouthes. I catch Thalia staring at them with the same slack-jawed exasperation I'm sure is written across my own face. When she looks over at me I give in to a smile and just shake my head in amusement.

"This? This is the kind of shit I deal with. All. The. Time. From them in band practice."

"You're a saint." I make a show of bowing to her repeatedly in worship of her saintliness. Admittedly though, I can't help but think it's rather adorable that Kayla and Nico get along so well. I've never seen Nico this... playful.

I blame it on their game, which is devolving into a food fight, that I don't notice Jason and Piper walk up.

"Dang, it's a party, practically the whole gang's here." Piper smiles brightly, pushing Kayla and Nico further over on the bench, until Nico is crowded up against the wall. The booths are big, but not really six person big. I'm snickering at Nico when Thalia pushes on me and I realize I'm about to be in the same predicament.

"Gods damn, what the FUCK is everyone doing here?"

"Language, Nico," Jason chastised mildly.

"Gosh damn, what the FUCK is everyone doing here?"

Jason just sighs and I can't stop the laugh that escapes my mouth. 

"I can't believe you guys didn't invite us."

"It's not like we invited them either," Nico mumbles under his breath.

Jason pauses, fork halfway to his mouth, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. Food seemingly forgotten, his blue eyes dart back and forth between Nico and I. A blush rises to my cheeks as I recall that the last time I saw Jason, I was tangled up in Nico's bed.

I'm silently begging Jason with my eyes not to rat us out when Kayla exclaims, "wait! Were you guys on a date?!"

I look over at Nico at the sound of his head thumping down on the table in frontof him. Neither of us is able to come up with a response quick enough though.

"Did that a little bit backwards, don't you think?" Jason asks sarcastically, a shit-eating smirk plastered on his face, before taking a large bite of his chicken caesar. His face is lit with enjoyment at seeing us squirm, cheeks raised and crinkles at the corner of his eyes even as he chews.

Thalia's brow scrunches, looking back and forth between her brother and Nico. "What are you talking about? Nico, what's he talking about?"

Nico clears his throat awkwardly, color flushing his olive features. "Ermmmm.. so. Funny story."

"Oh, I'll bet it's hilarious," Kayla grins, bumping her shoulder against Nico's repeatedly while he just cringes. "So did he catch you fucking or?"

"NO!" I practically shout, causing heads to turn at several tables nearby. I wave sheepishly and wait for them to turn away before continuing. "Don't be crude, nothing like that..."

Nico explains finding me asleep in the library. Jason chimes in, sharing how Nico knocked on the door with his head and me a dead weight in his arms. Kayla cackles, sharing what a heavy sleeper I am and how you can get away with a lot without waking me up, to which Nico looks suspiciously thoughtful.

I'm not sure if it's fortunate or unfortunate, but Jason brings things back on topic, asking what happened after he left. Looking at Nico, I feel myself melt at the soft expression on his face as he looks back at me. A tender, openness that I've never seen on him before, but fits him surprisingly well. I have butterflies in my stomach and can't look away from him, even when Piper and Kayla start singing:

"Will and Nico sitting in a tree-"

I expect Nico to shut down at the attention. To scowl. To shove them. To cross his arms over his chest. 

Instead he grins, his whole face radiating happiness and confidence. He half stands, leaning across the table to grab a fistful of my shirt, dragging me to meet him halfway. My laugh is cut off by his kiss, both of us smiling through it. The whole table explodes with cheers, I'm sure drawing attention from other patrons, but I can't find it in myself to care.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read my wolfstar, you may already know this, but for those who don't, I broke my wrist and I couldn't use my right hand at all. It was several weeks before I could even move my fingers. Typing just wasn't something I had patience for one handed. 
> 
> BUT! It's finally here!!! And woefully un-proofread. Drop comments below and THANK YOU for your patience!!

Twitching aside the long, black curtain, I peer through the small crack, out onto the empty stage and the swarming masses of people beyond. The previous night's audience had been large, but seems paltry by comparison to the crowd waiting now. Our band had cleared the final contest with ease, being declared victorious and the opening band for today’s concert. I'm glad that the performances are back to back, so that I didn't have time to consider just how large of a venue this really is. And more importantly, so Thalia didn't have a chance to drill us to death...

My eyes dart back and forth through the crowds, trying to find a familiar face, but it seems like a lost cause; there are just too many people. At both my and Kayla's urging, Will did not come to last night’s concert. He ran himself ragged studying and completing all of his exams and had both of us sincerely worried about his health. After his last test Thursday night, Cecil informed me he barely made it back to the dorm before passing out and sleeping for 14 hours straight. When he woke up and messaged me in a daze, frantic about ‘when is the concert’ and did he miss it, I made his sister order him to not dare to budge from his pajamas, while I called in food to be delivered to his room. 

It’s silly, but I’m anxious to see him and ascertain with my own eyes that he's still in one piece...

Sighing, I let the curtain drop back into place and go rejoin the others. Although they're gathered in a loose circle, no one is talking, and everyone looks tense. Kayla is perched on her amp, one leg extended in front of her, the other bouncing rapidly. A small smile tugs at the corner of my lips as I vaguely wonder whether that's a genetic nervous habit for the Solaces. I come up behind her and drop my arms around her neck, resting my chin on her shoulder. 

Thalia's eyes flick over in irritation, before recognizing that it's me, and returning to spinning her drumstick between her fingers.

"We're not performing at a funeral, you know."

Kayla buries her face in her hands, mumbling "I'm gonna fuck this up."

I rock back and forth, shaking her shoulders as I do. "No, you're not. We killed it in every performance leading up to this, and we're going to kill it tonight as well. And speaking of killing,Jake, if you don't stop chewing your fingernails bloody, I'm going to kill you, and then we'll be down a guitar, and it will all be very tragic."

The other boy quickly pulls his hand from his lips, expression guilty under my gaze.

Straightening up, Kayla grabs my hand before I can pull away entirely, tilting her head back to look at me with fearful eyes. Thalia appears to be lost in her own mind and unable to take charge like she usually does, so I resign myself to the role.

"Right. So. As a reminder, we already have a 100% on the midterm for class, just for making it past last night." Thalia looks up, blinking several times, as if she had forgotten that part. "This," I gesture with my free hand, allowing Kayla to still cling to my other one, "is just for fun. This is our reward, a chance to show off and jam together one last time." I manage a small smile. Or, what I hope is a smile. "So, we'll play all three songs, in order of how we performed them for the school, and we'll pretend it's just another session in our practice room, before we're more than likely split up for the remainder of the semester."

Leaning over Kayla I put a hand into the middle of the circle. Jake quickly follows, with the hand that isn't bleeding from biting it. Next is Kayla, and finally Thalia on top. Her blue eyes crackle like lightning, confidence and determination finally returning.

"Rock hard, on 3?" she asks. "1, 2, 3"

"ROCK HARD."

We drop hands and Kayla finally frees me from her clutches. Laughter bubbles from her lips, pouring out as nervous energy leaving her body until only excitement remains. The sun has dipped below the horizon, despite it not even being 6:00 yet, leaving behind clouds bathed in the purple twilight hue. A crew comes by to get our gear and bring it on stage for us, and I think that I could get used to that. After it's all set up, we climb the steps one by one in the darkness to check that everything is to our liking. Mic checks flow over the background music playing from the speakers, until we signal the sound crew that we're ready to go.

We kick it off with Rollercoaster, like we did all the way back on that warm September night and I can't help but smile remembering walking home with Will. All my nerves have melted away and performing with the group has become second nature. I can hardly remember or comprehend my frustration and fear when Kayla joined us those months ago. It seems so silly and childish now, the way I threw walls up to keep her at bay and stormed off for inviting her brother to watch us perform this song. 

There's hardly a break before we launch into Hero/Heroine, the opening guitar only serving to drive the screaming crowd to grow impossibly louder. I've just started singing when I finally spot the mop of curls I've been unconsciously searching for. Beer bottle clutched in one hand with his other arm thrown over Jason's shoulders, it's hard to believe it took me this long to find him in the crowd. There's hundreds, possibly thousands, visiting the massive fair - many of whom are standing before the stage or camped on picnic blankets on the nearby hills, but there's no competition in my mind for the brightest smile and prettiest face in attendance.

Will and Jason are both rocking back and forth, beer bottles held aloft as they either sing along or just cheer incoherently; it's hard to tell which. Even from this distance though, I can see the moment my favorite pair of blue eyes drift over from his sister and catch me watching him. Despite the cold night, I feel my whole body grow warm, radiating outward from my chest, pinned under his stare. His smile slips just a fraction, growing softer, warmer, less excited and more private and comfortable, and godsdamnit I can feel myself blushing on stage. I can be performing in front of hundreds of people and still keep my cool, but the moment Will's attention is focused on me I turn into a flustered mess.

I wonder if that will ever wear off.

I secretly hope it doesn't.

The song ends, and I take several long gulps from the water bottle left next to the mic for me, before addressing the crowd.

"Thank you everyone for your enthusiasm, and the university for giving us this opportunity. We are thrilled to be here, you've been an awesome audience for our short set and first major performance. Enjoy this one last song to get you pumped for the rest of the concert!"

Taking a step back, I wave to the answering applause, before turning to Thalia. She clicks her sticks, counting off the beat.

To me left, Jake strums a quick chord before yelling out a, "ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR!"

My guitar hangs from my shoulder, but my hands are wrapped around the mic, eyes slipping shut and voice relaxed.

 

 _"Hubcaps and ashtrays  
_ _I was born, but I wasn't raised.  
_ _The big wheel, the black space  
_ _Tried my best, but wasn't praised._

 

_Hell is so close to Heaven  
_ _Hell is so close to Heaven."_

 

Thalia taps out a soft melody on a xylophone she snagged from the music department, while Jake strums the main guitar part, blending together seamlessly with my voice. We gain momentum going into the second chorus, Thalia crashing rapidly on her cymbals as Kayla and I join in.

 

 _"Hold on, don't look back  
_ _You know we're better, we're better than that  
_ _Lost and thrown away  
_ _You know we're better, we're better than that"_

 

It's loud, exciting, and the thrill coursing through my veins is intoxicating. I ride the high as I reach for notes at the top of my range knowing this is what I had worked for every day for months. To be here, under the blinding lights, our music ringing clear in the cold autumn air. Releasing my guitar again, I lean into the mic, gazing out into the crowd.

 

 _"My whole life they said I'd be nothing  
_ _But I'm something  
_ _And I would rather be the stray  
_ _Than be nothing to no one at all"_

 

The rest of the song it's a fight to sing through the smile taking over my face, and I feel more alive and content with where I am than I ever remember being in my life. 

 

* * *

 

 We’re just finishing loading the last of the gear into the back of Mr. Wilson’s van when I hear running feet slapping the concrete behind me. I nearly tumble forward in with the gear as a body slams into mine, arms wrapping around me from behind. Hot breath tickles my ear and cheek in great puffs.

“You were incredible,” Will whispers in my ear, voice ragged and out of breath.

I huff in exasperation, before giving into a chuckle as my cheek is peppered in featherlight kisses.

“Oh!” he exclaims, “I got you something!”

I shiver in the absence of his warmth at my back. Turning around, my pout quickly changes to curiosity and amusement, watching him try and pull something much too large for his pocket from the inside of his jacket. I take the moment of his fumbling to admire him; from the flush in his cheeks due to the cool air and alcohol, the way his hair is more ruffled than usual, and even the scuffs and mud on his worn boots. I blink several times, startled as he exclaims a triumphant ‘ah hah!’, thrusting his arms out holding something small and fuzzy. Glancing up at his smiling blue eyes, I hesitantly take the item from him.

It’s about the size of a grapefruit and incredibly soft, fur a deep purple. Peering at it curiously, I rotate it until I find eyes and discern which is the correct way to hold it. Laughter is bubbling from my lips before I can stop it, and once it starts I can’t seem to stop. Tears leak from the corner of my eyes. 

“What the fuck, Will?”

“Hey! It’s cute!”

There is no denying that. Although it looks nothing like the actual animal, it is an undeniably, adorable stuffed bat. The body is a just a circle, with two little black bead eyes and black felt wings sprouting on either side of it’s furry little body. Purple thread create fingers in the membrane and two little folded ears peek from soft fuzz.

I’m quiet and smiling fondly, tracing my fingers over the little thing, when Will leans down to plant a kiss on my cheek. “Proud of you, Death Boy.”

“Thanks, Sunshine. And I like the bat.”

“Are you done hogging my brother, William?”

He steps back and I immediately have a different small bundle of fuzz wrapped around my waist. Laughing, I try and push stray hair back and out of my mouth. “Gods, Hazel, your hair should come with a smothering warning tag.”

Giving up on taming her wild mane, I settle for wrapping my arms around her shoulders and resting my chin on her head.

“I took video to send to Dad and Seph.” Her voice is muffled by my chest, but intelligible and I hum in acknowledgement. Dad had apologized no less than 10 times on the phone to me that morning that he couldn’t make it. He was called out of town for business a couple days ago and wasn’t back yet. Our step-mom had offered to drive the several hours down by herself, but I talked her into not, on the condition someone took a video for her. 

“Guysssssssssss,” Kayla’s whining cuts through the noise backstage as the crew rushes around setting up for the next band. Hazel pulls back, looking over at the other girl. “Let’s take a picture.”

I groan and my sister swats me, “that’s a great idea!”

“I’ll take it for you guys!” Leo pops up out of a nowhere but is quickly shot down by Piper shoving him to the side.

“Absolutely not. You know nothing about framing, lighting, or photography in general.” Leo opens his mouth to refute her, but she cuts him off. “Besides the inner workings of a camera.”

His finger drops in defeat. 

“I’ll take it. Now, everyone gather over here in front of the curtain, it’ll make the perfect backdrop. No, Will, where do you think you’re going? Get over there. Jason put your beer down. No, not there, over here by me. Leo, you are not tall enough to be in the back, honestly, what are you thinking? Use your brain, boy. Nico, what are you holding?”

“Fredo.”

Everyone goes quiet, turning to look at me in confusion. It takes all of my self control to keep my face perfectly serious, half a dozen pairs of eyes glancing between me and the purple furrball in my hands.

“Fredo?"

“Fredo.”

Kayla is the first to lose it, doubling over in a fit of laughter, and my resolve crumbles. I vaguely register Piper rolling her eyes and not-so-discreetly taking a few pictures of us all in various states of confusion and amusement. When we all calm down enough to stand straight, Piper squishes us all together to fit the frame. I end up with Will’s arm around my waist, my arm thrown over Leo’s shoulder, and Kayla crouched in front of me.

Piper counts down, and I even manage a genuine smile for the first picture. By the third one though, my cheeks hurt and I scowl asking if we’re finished yet, but my expression quickly changes to one of surprise as I feel a kiss pressed to both of my cheeks.

“LEO!”

He cackles and has the good sense to start running. I turn to Will, “hold Fredo, please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you didn't see in the comments on last chapter, this will become a series, and I have already started outline pt. II. So, subscribe or however that works if you are interested in reading that. I may not post it until I write the whole thing though, save you all the stress of long stretches between updates... 
> 
> On a sappy note, thank you all for your kind words, motivation, and support over the past 10 months. Writing this started out as a way of coping with a dark time, and there were multiple times where your comments were the best part of my days.
> 
> Song is The Strays by Sleeping with Sirens


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